


Whisper my Heart

by ALeigh30



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blackmail, Cinderella AU, Friends to Lovers, Happily Ever After, Light Angst, M/M, Modern AU, Politics, sort of slow burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-13 18:07:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 23,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29157867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ALeigh30/pseuds/ALeigh30
Summary: During his first time at court, Ashe gets swept up in noble politics, drawing the praise of Prince Dimitri and the ire of the Royal Advisor. Though he thinks he loves the Prince, Ashe dares not act on it because how could the Prince return the affections of a barely-noble? A lavish party, an almost confession; heartbreak, betrayal, and blackmail. Will there be a happily ever after?[Written for the Ashe Big Bang!]
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert
Comments: 16
Kudos: 28
Collections: Ashe Big Bang





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi friends!! Happy Ashe Big Bang!! 🥳🥳 I honestly can't believe it! We did it! This is my first bang and first long fic - I'm very excited to share this with you all!
> 
> Before we dive in, this story is very canon divergent and I took a lot of creative liberties. Most everyone is alive, everyone is happy, I pretend I know how politics work, and I took full advantage of traditional Cinderella-esque tropes. I had a BLAST writing this and I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Be sure to check out Cobalt's art that accompanies this fic! (Also linked in the chapters!)  
> [Adorable Art 1 (Spoiler-ish for Chapter 6)](https://twitter.com/cobaltcandi/status/1357421866613309441)  
> [Adorable Art 2 (Spoiler for Chapter 8!)](https://twitter.com/cobaltcandi/status/1357757371561373696?s=20)

“You want me to come with? You think I’m ready?”

From across the table, Lord Lonato Gaspard nodded. “Of course. I think it’s the perfect time for you to become acquainted with the royal court.”

Ashe stared at his father in shock. “Right! B-but… Shouldn’t Christophe be going?”

On his left, his brother laughed. “You mean you would rather stay here and deal with Lord Haliwell’s farming dispute? Or better yet, whatever issue is plaguing Lord Kliemann _this_ time? I’m more than willing to take you up on that…”

“Boys…” Lonato warned without any true frustration. Addressing the younger man, he smiled. “It’s nothing to be scared of, son. You’ll get to explore the capital, observe some of the political processes… Think of it like a field trip if you wish. And I bet you’ll make some new friends. I believe Duke Fraldarius has a son around your age…”

“The Prince too, I think,” Christophe added.

“Ashe is gonna meet the Prince?!” The men turned to the young female voice that had entered the library. “Can I come too?” she asked, hopping on to her father’s lap.

He laughed, hugging her close. “Not this time, Evelyn. You’ll get to go to the Prince’s coronation before the New Year.”

Evelyn groaned. “I never get to do anything fun.”

“Soon, sweetheart, I promise.” Lonato smiled and placed a reassuring kiss on top of her head as she fidgeted in his lap. “Anyway, Ashe, as a future lord of this territory, you owe it to our neighbors to be familiar with the parliamentary processes and the politics of nobility, so that they trust you to stand for them and be their representative.”

“Of course,” Ashe responded with determination. “A-and I don’t take this responsibility lightly!”

His father smiled and nodded. “I know you don’t. You and Christophe together will be great leaders when my time is up, even if your influence is in a limited capacity compared to his. Perhaps you both will help Prince Dimitri change such laws surrounding the nobility.”

“That would be nice.” Christophe agreed, leaning back against the sofa. “Ashe shouldn’t be considered any less just because he’s adopted. Evelyn too.”

“It would be an uphill battle,” their father cautioned. “Many of the other Lords are set in the old ways we’ve been governing.” He chuckled. “I think they’re in for a surprise once the Prince fully ascends the throne.”

“You think so?” Christophe questioned, never one to pass up an opportunity to talk politics. Ashe sat silently, absorbing the conversation.

Lonato nodded. “The late King Lambert was slowly and cautiously beginning a transition of sorts from the current ways of nobility to something more progressive, becoming less reliant on blood heirs and leveling the field, so to speak. So far, Prince Dimitri has echoed his father’s beliefs and I’d imagine he’d work to continue this legacy.” In the corner of the room, the clock struck the top of the hour. “But that is a discussion for another time.” Evelyn slid off his lap and the older man grasped her hand. “Shall we go see what Celia and company have on the menu for us this evening?”

“Yeah!” Evelyn said excitedly, pulling her father out of the study, Christophe following not far behind.

Ashe lingered in the study a moment longer, reflecting on the conversation. On the one hand, he was excited! His first trip to Fhirdiad! It would be almost like a knight story!

On the other…

“Ashe!”

He looked up, drawn out of his thoughts by his sister standing in the doorway.

“Come _on_ slowpoke!” she teased.

Ashe set aside his thoughts for the moment and chuckled at his sister. “Sorry Evelyn. I’m coming.” She took his hand and they walked to the dining room for dinner.

They wouldn’t be leaving for the capital for a few days, but Ashe wanted to be prepared. Celia had given him a preliminary list of things to pack, so after dinner, he got started. A suitcase laid open on his bed with clothing haphazardly tossed in. Some more formal attire had been set on the back of his desk chair to be tried on or freshly laundered.

“Someone’s nervous.”

Ashe startled and turned to the voice. “Can’t be too prepared, I guess.”

Christophe smiled knowingly and Ashe knew his brother saw right through him.

“Okay, maybe I’m a little nervous,” he admitted with a sigh.

“Want to talk about it?”

Christophe was an amazing older brother. He was always there with a word of advice or to lend an ear when you needed it.

Ashe shook his head and turned his attention back to the shirt he had been attempting to fold. “It’s nothing.”

His brother chuckled. “That’s your lying voice. You can’t get rid of me with that anymore.” He paused. “Seriously, Ashe, what’s on your mind?”

Ashe tossed the shirt into the suitcase and started absently playing with the ring on his finger.

“It’s just… going back to earlier. The rules haven’t changed and you’re the heir to Gaspard. It should be you going to court, not me. What if they don’t accept me?”

Christophe crossed his arms and leaned against the doorjamb. “What do you mean?”

Ashe sighed, shoving the suitcase aside and crawling onto the bed. He reached for his favorite stuffed animal, a blue-hued lion, a cartoony version of the one depicted on the Faerghun flag. He hugged it close to his chest taking comfort in the first item Lonato gave him after the adoption, the first item that was truly _his_. 

“Do you remember when Evelyn and I started school and there was that one boy who bullied us, always saying that Lonato wasn’t our real father and you weren’t our brother?”

Christophe scrunched his face and scoffed. “Yeah. And I overheard one day and spent a week in detention for pushing him down the hill.” He stood up straight, puffed out his cheeks, and put his hand on his hips. _‘You leave my brother and sister alone!’_ or something like that.” He chuckled and smiled, relaxing against the door again. “Totally worth it, in case you were wondering.”

Ashe allowed himself a laugh. “Yeah… Anyway, I keep imagining that, only… you know, worse.”

Christophe’s eyes widened mischievously. “You’re saying I may get the opportunity to push Margrave Gautier down a hill?!”

“What?! N-no! That’s not what I mean at all!”

Christophe laughed, a deep and full-bellied sound very much like Lonato’s. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding.” He pushed off the doorjamb and sat next to his brother, the mattress dipping with his weight. The older man wrapped an arm around Ashe’s shoulders, holding him close to his chest. Ashe easily accepted the comforting gesture.

“Really though,” Christophe began, “Most of the people at court will barely notice you’re there. And the few that do won’t care about your past, not that it’s any of their business anyway. Dad will take care of everything. You just sit there, and take it all in.”

Ashe nodded and gave his brother a hug. “You’re right. I’m being childish.”

“No, you’re not. This is new territory for you, so it’s completely fair that you’re feeling nervous or even scared of the unknown. I know you’ll be great.”

Ashe pulled away and nodded, eyes full of renewed determination, worries abated for the time being. “Thanks. I should finish packing then.”

His brother reached out and ruffled Ashe’s silver hair like he did when they were younger. “You probably should. And don’t worry too much about forgetting anything. You can always pick it up in the capital.” Christophe stood and made his way to the door.

“Hey, Chris?”

Christophe stopped and turned to his brother again.

Ashe smiled. “Thanks.”

The older man smiled back at him. “Anytime, Ashe.” He turned and left, closing the door behind him.

Ashe let out a breath and looked around his room. “Guess I better get started,” he said to himself. He set his toy lion back at the head of the bed and grabbed his shirt once again.


	2. Chapter 2

Stepping off the plane and into Fhirdiad International Airport was like stepping through a wardrobe into a magical new world. They landed at a private gate, though Ashe could see the public terminal across the way bustling with people going to or coming from destinations all over Fódlan and beyond. As they walked through this more secluded part of the airport, Ashe marveled at signs advertising picturesque vacations in the Aquatic City, automatic signs changing their displays to show flight delays and cancellations. The hallways echoed with the sound of travelers speaking foreign languages and announcements from overhead speakers.

At the end of the concourse, they were met by a smartly dressed ginger-haired man.

“Lord Gaspard,” the man acknowledged soberly. “Welcome back to Fhirdiad. I trust your flight was comfortable.”

“Greetings, Gilbert,” Lonato greeted, shaking the man’s hand. “Yes, the flight was lovely, thank you. I always enjoy travelling this way.” He brought Ashe forward, arm across his shoulders. “Gilbert, allow me to introduce you to my second son, Ashe Ubert. Ashe, this is Sir Gilbert Dominic, one of Prince Dimitri’s primary aides. I’m sure you’ll be seeing him around often while we’re here.”

Ashe bowed politely. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Sir Dominic.”

Gilbert nodded. “The pleasure is all mine, young man. And please, just Gilbert is fine. Our staff will help collect your bags and meet you at the house. If you follow me, we have a car waiting for you.”

Gilbert led them outside to a private drive and a sleek black luxury sedan. Flags with the royal seal were hanging from antennas on either side, and the license plate proudly denoted the car as a diplomat vehicle.

Sliding into the back seat, Ashe felt a little like a child at an amusement park. Everything about this trip so far had been a new experience; flying in an airplane over the Faerghun countryside, the airport itself with its chorus of different voices and sounds, even this car, simple and elegant, yet more than Ashe would have ever dreamed of years ago.

They drove through the city, a magical sight of tall buildings, lights, and swaths of people. In the distance, the silhouette of the royal palace stood gallantly against the horizon.

_Wow!_ Ashe thought, staring out the window. _It’s amazing! Just like in the stories._

The car pulled up to a gated house near the Western edge of the city, hidden among other homes and small businesses. Christophe had told Ashe about their capital home, built generations ago for members of Council. Each of the governing families had one scattered around Fhirdiad, though some closer to the royal family chose to stay in suites in the palace while on business. The house was very much like their home in Gaspard, more modest and cozy than extravagant.

Looking back toward the center of town, Ashe could still see the palace, blue-toned in the distance, otherworldly and extraordinary.

“Soak it all in, Ashe,” Lonato encouraged. “We’ll be here for a couple of months and there will be plenty of time to explore outside of the parliamentary council.”

Ashe nodded. “I’m looking forward to it!”

His father smiled. “Good. We’ll rest today. Tomorrow, the real adventure begins.”

When Lonato had said “adventure,” Ashe was pretty sure this isn’t what his father had in mind.

The morning of the first meeting of the council, Lonato awoke with a terrible sickness wreaking havoc on his body complete with fever, chills, and a hacking cough.

“He just needs some rest,” their housemaid, Celia, assured him.

“Of course. But what about the council?” Ashe asked. “We’re supposed to report to the session today.”

The housemaid nodded and handed him an envelope from her apron pocket. “Lord Gaspard has requested that you be sworn into the session in his stead, until he is recovered. We have already sent notice to the Prince and heads of the session, but if they don’t receive the request in time, there’s a letter and documents in this envelope.”

Ashe grasped the envelope with shaking hands. “H-he means to send me alone?”

Celia nodded. “You’ll do amazing, honey, I’m sure. The first few days of the session are a lot of pomp and circumstance; nothing should really happen until the end of the week. Your father should be better by then.”

“Sure. Okay, uhm… I guess I’ll be off then.”

“Good luck, Ashe.” She kissed the top of his head, and Ashe left the house, sliding into the waiting car.

At the palace, a servant led Ashe down a dizzying array of corridors to the council chamber. When he entered, he looked around the room in awe. The other lords and noble families were milling about, casually chatting as they waited for proceedings to begin.

On Ashe’s left, at the front of the chamber was the head table. There were tiered pedestals in the center upon which there were three regally designed chairs. On the top tier sat the most ornately designed seat where Prince Dimitri would preside over the parliamentary sessions. Below him would sit two other lords whom the Prince would seek as advisors during his reign. If Ashe’s memory served him, those spots would be occupied by Duke Rodrigue Fraldarius to the Prince’s right and Lady Cornelia Arnim, the current head advisor, to his left.

In the center of the chamber, were the seats for the other Lords and Nobles of Faerghus. Arranged in a semi-circular pattern, each territory was allotted a space for up to five people; Traditionally, there would be the ruling Lord, their heir if they were of age, and up to two other influential people from the territory. In recent years, however, most Lords attended sessions alone or with few selected influencers.

To Ashe’s right, at the back of the chamber, was tiered group seating and a balcony reserved for other guests and the press. During the course of the year, many well-off schools planned trips to the capital to let students experience a piece of democracy first hand. The press, of course, was a daily staple of capital life, one part as a trustworthy source of information for the people, and another as a salacious rumor mill.

Ashe made his way to the space reserved for Gaspard and took his seat. He glanced around the chamber nervously, feeling small and confined even in the gigantic chamber. He set the envelope from Lonato on the table in front of him and fidgeted with the ring he wore on his right hand. It brought him a sense of calm in such unfamiliarity.

A bell tolled from somewhere in the chamber and Ashe startled. It must have been a signal that the session was about to begin. The lords and nobles took their seats and a hush fell over those gathered in the gallery.

Moments later, a set of doors behind the head table opened, and out walked Prince Dimitri, flanked by Duke Fraldarius, Lady Arnim, and a small security detail. Those gathered in the chamber moved to stand at the Prince’s arrival, the shuffling of clothes and papers and the squeaking of chairs echoing throughout the room, accompanied by the flashes and shutter sounds of the press’ cameras.

Prince Dimitri was every bit as regal and poised as Ashe thought he would be, tall and broad-shouldered, blond hair tied back with a simple blue ribbon. He wore a simple suit and tie, and upon his head sat a plain silver circlet instead of a crown. At a glance, one might not think there was anything special about him until they looked closer.

The Prince and his advisors took their seats and the chamber followed. When the room had quieted again, Duke Fraldarius called the session to order.

“Ladies and gentlemen, esteemed guests and dignitaries, members of the press, citizens of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus; It is my honor and privilege to call this 1180th session of the Kingdom Parliamentary Council to order. By the order of His Royal Highness, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, we shall begin with roll.”

Duke Fraldarius began to call the names of the ruling houses of the Kingdom

“Charon.”

“Present.” A man from Ashe’s right proclaimed.

“Fraldarius.”

“Marquess Glenn Theon Fraldarius, for Lord Rodrigue.”

“Galatea.”

“Present”

“Gaspard.”

Ashe stood shakily. “A-Ashe Ubert, for Lord Lonato Gaspard.”

Duke Fraldarius paused his roll call, the chamber so silent you could hear a pin drop, but no one dared. Ashe was frozen. Did he make a mistake? Did he not respond correctly?

The Prince’s eyes met Ashe’s, a look of curiosity but not unkind. 

“Lord Ubert,” the Prince addressed him. “You stand as representative of Gaspard?”

The Prince’s questioning was a formality; whenever an unexpected name answered as representative of a governing territory, the presiding Royal leader asked if they stood as the territory’s delegate. This meant that the notice of Lonato’s illness had not reached the Prince before the session.

All eyes from around the chamber were on Ashe as he gathered his courage and willed his voice not to shake.

“I do, Your Highness. My father has taken ill and I stand ready to represent Gaspard in his stead.” He lifted the envelope he had set on the table. “O-oh, I have the documentation--”

“Where is Lord Christophe Gaspard?” Lady Cornelia asked condescendingly. “Is he not the _true_ heir of Gaspard?”

The council room murmured with the way she had said “true heir.” It was no secret that Lonato had adopted a son and daughter, but it also was against tradition for adopted heirs to be accepted as nobility, taboo even, never mind stand-in for political matters.

“M-my brother had business at home and was unable to travel for this session,” Ashe stuttered. This was his fear coming true. Being denied by the nobility, not recognized as a representative of his father or his home.

“Your Highness, I advise striking Gaspard’s attendance from this session for lack of appropriate representation,” Lady Cornelia said. “This is most improper and a waste of this council’s time.”

“That’s not fair, my Lady!” Ashe exclaimed, emboldened by the souring of his territory and family name. “I have the proper documentation and notice should have preceded my arrival.” To Prince Dimitri, he continued. “My sincerest apologies, Your Highness, for this disruption in your court as that seems to not be the case.”

The Prince raised his hand, cutting off any further comment from his advisor. “Let me see your documentation, sir.”

Ashe shuffled from the table to the dais, handing the Prince the envelope. He stepped back, bowed, and waited.

Prince Dimitri thoroughly read over the documents, taking care to make sure everything was in order. Time seemed to stall; Somewhere in the gallery a man coughed; No one dared speak, not even the shutter of a camera could be heard.

Finally, after what felt like hours, the Prince nodded. “On my authority, the council recognizes Lord Ashe Ubert as representative of Gaspard, until such time arrives that his father returns.”

Lady Cornelia gasped and leaned over to the Prince. “Your Highness, I must protest. We cannot allow this.. this… _commoner_ a place on this council. It is most improper.”

“That’s absurd, Cornelia,” the Prince responded. “Lord Ubert has provided all the required documentation. In addition, there is no one else who could stand in Lonato’s place, other than Christophe, who is, as you know, not in the capital. Lord Ubert is just as qualified as he would be. The fact that he is not related by blood is of little importance.”

“But, your Highness--”

The Prince raised a gloved hand, silencing her protests. “Enough.” He turned his attention back to Ashe. “Lord Ubert, you will assume your father’s seat on this council in a temporary capacity until he has recovered enough to return.” 

“T-thank you, Your Highness.” Ashe bowed again then moved to return to his seat.

“One more thing.”

He stopped and turned back to Prince Dimitri. “Yes, Your Highness?”

Prince Dimitri smiled, his eyes shining a bright blue. “Now that the formalities are out of the way, please allow me to welcome you to Fhirdiad, Lord Ubert.”

A moment of hesitation, then Ashe returned the smile and bowed to the Prince once more. As he took his seat once again, Duke Fraldarius continued roll call and the day proceeded without further incident.


	3. Chapter 3

After the excitement of the first day, the rest of the week was uneventful. Celia had been correct in her assessment that the first few days of the session were more formality and tradition than actual discussions and decision-making. Ashe was able to sit back and fall into a bit of a routine, observing a lot of the government processes that he’d only read about in school. He began to relax and get comfortable around the other lords. Even Duke Fraldarius had stopped him after one session to welcome him to the capital and the council.

By the end of the week, however, Lonato was still not well enough to begin attending sessions. During the second week, the governing process picked up steam and Ashe was actually voting in his father’s place. At first, it was just minor decisions such as which citizen petitions had gathered enough community support to be on upcoming ballots. Eventually, the conversations turned into debates over trade agreements with neighboring governments and whether or not Faerghus should consider sending supplies to aid Brigid should they go to war within the year.

Luckily for Ashe, his brother Christophe had a penchant for political conversation and Ashe was present at many conversations between him and their father. Before they had left for the capital, Lonato had given Ashe a bit of coaching as to what he could expect from council conversations. As needed, he confidently cast his vote for the side that Lonato would have supported.

Today’s debate on a proposed tax plan for the Kingdom was proving to be a heated one. The councils of the local territories had been petitioning for a tax system that would help the merchant classes and working families, while the nobility and more well-to-do citizens complained that the current system was just fine and did not need to change.

On the one hand, Ashe agreed with the citizens. He knew how businesses in Gaspard were struggling and could only imagine similar situations in the larger territories. On the other, he could see where the lords were coming from as well. If given a bit more time, the current system would reach a balance. Though, as he sat in the chamber listening to the lords debate, it seemed to Ashe that many of the lords weren’t really invested in the infrastructure and development of their territories, with just a handful of exceptions.

It was the duty of a noble house, especially a _ruling_ house, to help advance the territory and that included monetarily. Why some of the lords were fighting back on that fact--

“Lord Ubert.”

Ashe startled to attention. _Oh, crap_. He’d been caught not paying attention to the conversation around him, like a student who had dozed off during class. So much for making good impressions. “Um--Yes, Your Highness?”

Prince Dimitri seemed not to notice Ashe’s absent mind. “What are your thoughts on this plan?” he asked, gesturing toward Count Charon and Baron Gideon who had been in a shouting match a moment ago.

Ashe swallowed, his brain struggling to catch up, acutely aware that the eyes of the entire Council of Lords had shifted to focus fully on him. “My... thoughts? On the tax plan, Your Highness?”

“Surely you have an opinion, do you not?”

Eyes upon him again, Ashe remembered that Lonato had prepared him for this very discussion. As protocol dictated, he stood to address the Prince. “Uhm… well, as far as taxes go, it’s a very progressive plan and I think--”

“I don’t want to hear the politically correct answer!” The Prince interrupted, slamming his fist on the tabletop. The gathered men flinched as the sound bounced off the walls of the council chamber. Prince Dimitri rubbed his eyes and sighed in frustration. “I know Lord Lonato’s stance on the subject; I want to know what _you_ think.” The Prince looked up to meet Ashe’s eyes, brilliant blue and shining with ambition and sincerity. “You’re the most familiar with how Gaspard runs, how its citizens live, I’d wager more so than Lonato himself in some ways. Be honest with me: How will this tax plan affect them?”

Ashe looked around the room nervously, fidgeting with his ring. Internally, he considered repeating the response he and Lonato had practiced should he be called upon during council. But something about the Prince’s demeanor inspired Ashe to speak his mind. His eyes shone with such honesty and candor.

Clearing his throat, Ashe gathered his courage and steeled himself. With the council temporarily forgotten, he spoke openly and candidly to Prince Dimitri. “H-honestly, Your Highness, a plan such as this could be detrimental to some of our most vulnerable citizens,” he said sadly, voice steadying and gaining strength as he continued. “I agree that as nobles and lords of our territories, we need to be just as invested both physically and monetarily in our territories, but to leave such a loophole in the tax plan that will allow certain people to pay less than their fair share is dishonest and, frankly, a slap in the face to our citizens.”

One of the lords inhaled sharply, but Ashe continued like a broken dam no longer able to hold back the tides.

“In Gaspard, for example, our farmers are still struggling to recover from last year’s drought; Our businesses are barely profitable due to the failing trade negotiations with Adrestia. Leicester has been a great help in that regard, but some may still close for good when the year is up. Poverty has increased, people are stealing just to feed their families, and they have been for a long, long time. I wouldn’t rule out some kind of uprising or rebellion--”

Dipping his head and looking away from Ashe, Prince Dimitri raised his hand, silencing him. “Enough,” he said softly, sadly. “I had no idea the West was struggling so. For that, I am truly sorry. I have failed our citizens and I will work to remedy that.” Letting out a held breath, he lifted his gaze to Ashe’s eyes once again. “Thank you Lord Ubert. Your insight is extremely valuable to this council and especially to myself.”

Recognizing the end of the conversation, Ashe bowed to the Prince and took his seat.

Addressing the council, the Prince continued. “The plan as it is currently written is not acceptable. There needs to be another solution, one that will not allow such a burden on our most vulnerable. At the very least, the clause regarding rate adjustment must be revised and allow for the local councils and their citizens, to approve or deny major rate adjustments. Therefore, this bill is hereby sent back to committee for further discussion and revision.”

The Prince rapped his gavel on the desk, ending the debate for now.

The day ended with the creation of a new committee to review the tax bill and its proposed amendments. Two lords from each area of the Kingdom would begin meeting next week to update and revise the details of the bill before presenting it again to the full council for a vote. Counts Rowe and Gideon would represent the West, and Ashe would serve as a temporary aide to the committee at large. Prince Dimitri had insisted on it, much to the displeasure of the more affluent leaders, including Lady Cornelia who still looked down her nose at Ashe any chance she got.

Ashe rubbed his temples, feeling the start of a headache setting in. How did Christophe put up with this when he was at council? He made a mental note to ask his brother when they spoke next. He gathered his belongings and made his way out of the council room, looking forward to the break of the weekend.

“Lord Ubert! A moment, if you will.”

Ashe turned in the corridor, coming face to face with Prince Dimitri. The Prince smiled as he approached, his vassal a silent yet commanding presence behind him. Others in the corridor moved swiftly around them on to their next tasks or appointments, eventually emptying and leaving the men alone.

Ashe bowed. “What can I do for you, Your Highness?”

“Nothing, rather, it’s something I can do for you. I wanted to apologize, Lord Ubert,” the Prince said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “For earlier, when I asked you about the tax plan. I did not mean to put you on the spot like that.”

Ashe blinked. This was… not what he had been expecting. “Oh, no, Your Highness, that’s quite alright. I’m just glad I could say something of value.”

“Everything you have done so far this session has been valuable, Lord Ubert - do not sell yourself short. You will make a great Lord of Gaspard in the future.”

Ashe blushed at the easy praise. “Thank you, Your Highness. Though, my brother Christophe will be the Lord of Gaspard once Lonato is ready to retire. I’m just kind of along for the ride.”

The Prince hummed thoughtfully. “Even so, I’m sure your citizens rest easy knowing that not only one, but both of their future lords will stand up for them at court. I don’t know Christophe very well yet, but I’ve known Lord Lonato my entire time in council and it’s clear he’s raising the both of you with his morals and values.”

“Thank you for your kind words, Your Highness. I will pass them on to my father.”

Silence stretched between them so long that Ashe wondered if that was the end of the conversation. It felt like the natural end, but the Prince had not dismissed him. Could he just excuse himself, or was that generally frowned upon? Ashe was never certain about the royal protocol.

Saving him from having to decide what to do, the Prince’s vassal cleared his throat. “Your Highness, it’s time for your next appointment.”

The prince twisted his wrist to look at his watch. “Ah, so it is. Thank you for the reminder, Dedue.” He smiled at Ashe. “Is your schedule free tomorrow afternoon, Lord Ubert?”

“My schedule? Oh… uhm, yes, I believe so.”

“Fantastic! Would you care to join me for tea? Nothing formal, just a casual, get-to-know-you sort of thing. I’m making it a point of my rule to truly know those on the council and through them their citizens as my father had.” The Prince’s face sharpened and turned more serious. “I was serious when I said I would remedy my ignorance of the Western territories, Lord Ubert. You have my word.”

“I know you will, Your Highness. And on behalf of Gaspard, I thank you.” He bowed to the Prince. “Also, if you’d like, you may call me Ashe, Your Highness.”

The Prince’s smile grew. “Very well, Ashe. And when we are not in official company, please, call me Dimitri.”

“Uhm, t-thank you. I’ll try, Your High-- I mean… Dimitri.”

Dimitri nodded. “Either Dedue or Cornelia will be in touch about tea tomorrow. I look forward to it.” He walked past Ashe, Dedue close behind, on his way to the next item on his schedule.

Ashe leaned against the wall of the corridor, winded as though he had just run a mile in the snow. “I’m looking forward to it too… Dimitri.”


	4. Chapter 4

Ashe arrived at the palace and was met in the entryway by Gilbert, who led him to one of the courtyard gardens on the west side of the grounds. He explained that with the mild weather cooperating for now, the Prince would be entertaining outside. Ashe agreed that the mild weather was nice and a welcome diversion from the normally deep cold at this time of year.

In the garden, Prince Dimitri was seated in the shade of a gazebo at a small garden table, which was simply decorated with an elegant looking tea set and a tiered tray of pastries and small confections. The Prince turned at Ashe’s arrival and stood to greet him.

“Ashe, welcome,” he said jovially. “I’m glad you could join me.”

Ashe bowed. “Thank you for the invitation, Your Highness. The pleasure is mine.”

The Prince nodded to Gilbert, dismissing him, and gestured to the table. “Please, take a seat. And you needn't be so formal, truly.”

“Oh, r-right. I’ll do my best to improve.”

They sat and Ashe took in the view of the garden. The gazebo was surrounded by a circular array of rose bushes and stone paths which cut the space into quarters. Somewhere deeper in the garden, among the flower beds and trees, a fountain bubbled, it’s relaxing sound echoing along the stone. The gazebo was distant enough from the palace to provide a sense of privacy and security, yet close enough so the Prince could be retrieved in a hurry. Even so, Ashe noticed the Prince’s vassal, Dedue, steadfastly keeping watch over his charge at a distance.

“I hope you don’t mind being outdoors,” Dimitri said, drawing Ashe’s gaze. “I feel we won’t have many more mild days until the cold officially grasps us, so I wanted to take advantage.”

“I don’t mind at all, Your Hi--I mean, Dimitri. It’s wonderful,” Ashe replied.

“I’m glad you think so.” Prince Dimitri smiled and Ashe felt his heart skip a beat. The Prince gestured to a box on the table holding various circular tins. “I picked a selection of leaves from our stores, so I hope there is one you’ll enjoy. The chamomile is my personal favorite, but pick whichever you like.”

Ashe nodded and looked through the offerings, finding a tin of mint tea toward the bottom. “Ah, the mint is my favorite.”

Dimitri nodded and poured each of them a cup of hot water. “How are you liking your time in the capital?” he asked. “Is there anything I can do to improve your time at court?”

“Oh, no,” Ashe responded, spoon clinking as he stirred a lump of sugar into his tea. “I’m having a great time in fact. I mean, at first, it was a bit overwhelming, but I think I’m starting to get the hang of it.”

The Prince hummed in agreement. “It’s not like the stories, I’m sure. Less war councils and revolution, more paperwork and tax debates.”

“Oh, I don’t know. Perhaps Sir Kyphon actually liked doing paperwork, and that detail just never made it into the legends.”

Ashe paused as his words caught up to him. Did he really just make a joke about one of the most legendary knights of history? To the Prince?! His face flushed in embarrassment, but before he could retract his statement, Dimitri let out an unexpectedly robust laugh.

“If only he were here! I would gladly let him take over the pile on my desk!”

Ashe relaxed, tension draining from his shoulders as he laughed along with Dimitri. After a moment of collecting themselves, the conversation continued.

“Do you like hero stories? Which is your favorite?”

Ashe considered his response. “As far as classic legend, I’d say _Loog and the Maiden of Wind_. For something more contemporary, I’ve read so many, I don’t think I can pick.”

“You’re an avid reader then?”

Ashe nodded enthusiastically. “I am! Hero stories, especially ones that feature knights are my favorites.”

“Grand adventures, sword fights, and jousting for a maiden’s honor,” Dimitri teased, though not maliciously. “How idealistic.”

“Yeah, a bit.” Ashe looked into his empty teacup, feeling a flush rise on his face once more. “Stories have always been an escape for me,” he continued softly. “They were all I had for a time. I guess I romanticize it, but to me, these stories are stories of hope and perseverance, of light coming from the dark.”

He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I told you all that--” Ashe stuttered self-consciously as the Prince placed a hand over his own.

“Do not apologize,” he said with a warm tenderness. “Thank you for sharing that piece of yourself with me.”

Dimitri removed his hand and moved to pour each of them another cup of hot water, effectively breaking the spell of the moment.

The conversation shifted and the pair settled into a comfortable discussion, speaking of everything and nothing at all. Dimitri asked about life in Gaspard; Ashe asked about living in the capital and palace life; Dimitri learned about Ashe’s sister, smiling fondly as Ashe told stories of them as young children; Ashe learned that Dimitri didn’t have any blood siblings, but a plethora of step sisters and brothers who he was, unfortunately, not very close to.

Their time together flew by, through a second pot of water, several sweet pastries from a bakery in the square (which Dimitri insisted they make plans to visit soon), and before long, Dedue was interrupting to usher the Prince along to another engagement.

On the way back to the house, Ashe could hardly believe what a great time he had with the Prince. They had fallen into easy conversation as though they had known each other for quite some time rather than just a week or so. Dimitri had seen and treated him as an equal; neither his status as a commoner or adopted son had affected their time together.

He smiled to himself, thinking ahead to the next time they would meet.

Lonato was feeling better the following week and was able to return and assume his place on the council. In front of a full chamber of noble lords and the press, Prince Dimitri unabashedly praised Ashe’s efforts in his father’s place, as much to Ashe’s embarrassment as his father’s pride.

The session continued as normal. In time, Ashe was introduced to the other noble families and formed a bit of a friendship with other heirs, particularly Sylvain Gautier and Felix Fraldarius. They were very close to Prince Dimitri, their families having close ties to the royal family going back generations and having grown up together.

Ashe slipped into their friendship easily, even with Felix’s natural briskness. He found himself invited to friendly get-togethers which occasionally included Dimitri.

In time, the mentioned bakery trip evolved into a group affair. One Sunday afternoon, the weather finally shifting into the harsh chill Faerghus is known for, Ashe and Dimitri, along with Dedue, Sylvain, Felix, and a detail of royal security guards, bundled up and walked through the streets of Fhirdiad.

The capital was bustling with activity this day, partially because of the usual business and tourist traffic, and partially in preparation for the Prince’s upcoming birthday celebration. While many of the citizens wouldn’t be invited to the royal celebration at the palace, they would be throwing their own parties in the taverns and restaurants throughout the city.

Dimitri had hand-delivered an invitation to Lord Lonato, and a separate one addressed to Ashe, the previous day.

A personal invitation to Prince Dimitri’s birthday masquerade ball. Just thinking about it again brought a warm blush to his cheeks, though he hoped everyone would think he was just flushed from the bitter wind.

The bakery was a small, cozy, brick building off the main square. The windows proudly noted their seasonal favorite treats and special café selections. It looked like it may once have been a livable home, but was converted to a storefront and, presumably, an upstairs apartment living space.

As the group entered, Ashe was struck with the smell of chocolate, bread, and coffee. It was heavenly. There were few patrons inside, probably the remaining bits of the lunchtime rush.

Sylvain was already at the main counter, flirting with the short, ginger-haired cashier who smiled and rolled her eyes at him.

“Knock it off, Sylvain,” she said without a hint of annoyance.

“What did I say?” he asked with fake innocence. “All I said was you’re looking very cute today Annette. The flour in your hair definitely adds a special charm.”

The cashier, Annette, let out a soft gasp and checked her appearance in the espresso machine. “Aw, man,” she sighed. “I thought I got it all out earlier.” She turned her attention back to the group, now all clustered around at the counter. “Oh, the gang’s all here! Hi Felix! Your Highness,” she bowed slightly, “it’s always a pleasure to see you.”

Dimitri inclined his head. “Hello, Annette. It’s been too long. I’ve been meaning to visit in person for some time.”

“Oh don’t worry about it, please. We know you’re busy. I’ll take your orders and let Mercie know you’re here. I’m sure she’d want to say hi.”

“Only if she’s not too busy herself. I would hate to inconvenience her.” Dimitri gestured to Ashe. “Annette, this is Ashe Ubert, Lord Gaspard’s son. He’s in town for the latest council session.”

Ashe didn’t think it was possible for Annette’s smile to get any bigger, but it did. “Nice to meet you, Ashe!” she greeted. “I hope Dimitri and the nobles aren’t boring you too terribly.”

Ashe had to laugh at that. “No more than normal,” he replied, tilting his head in Dimitri’s direction. The Prince chuckled and shook his head. “It’s been interesting, actually. I’m enjoying my time here.”

“That’s great!” Annette then addressed the group as a whole. “So what can I get for you guys today?”

With orders placed, they made their way to a table partially hidden at the back of the shop. The patrons seemed not to notice, or perhaps they didn’t care that the Prince was casually hanging out with friends in the bakery. (Or if they did, perhaps they were put-off by Dedue’s unwavering gaze at the threshold, far enough away to give the Prince and his friends space, but close enough to take action if called upon.)

Annette brought over their beverages, followed by a tall blonde woman, Mercedes, Ashe would come to learn, carrying a tray of pastries and small sandwiches.

The group ate and drank for a while, Annette and Mercedes stopping by every so often to check-in and catch up with their friends. Before long, the girls were kicking them out so they could close up for the day but promised to get together soon.

The crowds in the streets seemed to have doubled as the afternoon had progressed. As they walked, Ashe felt like he was steadily falling behind the rest of his friends, being inadvertently pushed and shoved, this way and that, no matter how many times he said, “excuse me.”

He could still see Sylvain’s shining red hair a few feet in front of him but getting further away every moment. Before he could call out, someone reached out and took his hand. Following the glove up an arm, Ashe realized Dimitri was hanging on to him, so he didn’t get lost in the throng of people.

“Let’s go this way,” the Prince said, gently tugging on Ashe’s arm to lead him through the crowd.

Eventually, there was a break in the flow of traffic, and the prince pulled them off to a much less populated side street. Ashe had barely registered that Dimitri had taken his hand--was holding his hand!-- before they separated and caught their breath.

“Sorry about that,” Ashe said, still slightly distracted by the warmth that lingered on his palm. “I wasn’t expecting so many people.”

“That’s alright,” Dimitri replied, taking his phone from his coat pocket. “I’ll text Sylvain and Felix and tell them to meet up with us back at the fountain when they’re done wandering.”

Ashe nodded. “That’s a good idea. Is there anywhere in particular you want to go?”

“Yes, in fact.” Dimitri smiled. “Just down the way here--”

The Prince was interrupted by an urgent commotion in the direction he was gesturing. Curious, the men made their way to the gathering crowd.

“Hey! No fair! Lemme go!”

On the sidewalk, one of Dimitri’s guards was holding on to a struggling child. At the edge of the crowd, a confections vendor was talking animatedly with another guard.

“What is going on here?” Dimitri questioned, the crowd parting as he advanced.

The child stopped struggling, a look of surprise shifting to terror on his face.

“Your Highness,” the guard began. “Apologies that you bear witness to this. This boy was caught stealing from the street vendor down the block. We just happened to be in the area to assist and apprehend the thief.”

Ashe’s heart stuttered. The boy looked to be no more than maybe eight or nine, soiled and dirtied from what was clearly a lot of time spent on the streets. In another life, the boy was Ashe himself, taking from vendor carts and back alley trash cans so he and Evelyn could survive another day.

“I see.” The eyes of the crowd were trained on Dimitri, gauging his reaction.

“No need to worry, Your Highness,” the guard continued, nodding to his partner. “We’ve got the situation under control.”

“Wait!” Ashe seemed surprised to realize it was him who shouted. “W-where will you take him?”

The guard considered Ashe. “The punishment for thievery is an overnight stay in Fhirdiad’s finest jail cell, my lord. After that…'' he trailed off and shrugged, leaving the crowd to imagine what could possibly come next.

The boy began struggling again. “No! Please! You can’t take me! No!”

Ashe reached into his coat pocket. “Wait! No! Here! I-I’ll pay for it! No harm done. You can let him go.”

“Ashe, what are you doing?” Dimitri asked, puzzled.

Ashe wasn’t listening. He turned toward the vendor, counting bills from his wallet. “How much? Should this cover it?”

The vendor and the other guard were baffled by Ashe’s gesture. “With all due respect sir,” the guard said, “I’m afraid that’s not how this works.”

Ashe looked around the group from the guards to the boy, to Dimitri and back again.

“Please, there must be some other--”

“If the vendor is amenable to this solution, let it be so.”

The rest of the world seemed to fall away as Dimitri spoke. A stunned silence fell upon the crowd.

“Your Highness?” The guard questioned.

Dimitri stepped forward, every bit as regal and authoritative as his station requires. “Lord Ubert wishes to pay for the boy’s transgression. If the vendor is amenable to this solution, money to pay for the stolen goods, then it shall be done on my authority, and the boy shall be released.”

The vendor shifted nervously now that the attention had fallen on him. “Uhm… y-yes, of course!” he affirmed. “That would be most agreeable, your Highness.”

“Wonderful, sir. You are most gracious.”

Ashe handed the payment to the vendor and the guard released the boy. The child looked around as if he couldn’t believe his luck, then darted off down a nearby alley. Ashe watched him go, hoping that, even if only for today, the boy would be a little better off.

The crowd had begun moving around them again, now that there was no drama to spectate. The guards stayed near Dimitri and Ashe as they began heading toward the fountain to reunite with Sylvain and Felix.

“I’m curious,” Dimitri started as they walked. “Why did you offer to pay for the boy’s thievery? It’s likely he’ll steal again and end up back in the same situation.”

Ashe thought about his response and chose his words carefully. “A few dollars from my pocket is nothing if it means that boy had something to eat. He didn’t look much older than my sister, Evelyn. If we hadn’t been adopted, that might have been her, or me.” _It was me, not all that long ago,_ went unsaid.

He forced a chuckle, hoping it didn’t sound as awkward as it felt. “Anyway, I guess I just wanted to pass on a bit of kindness, like Lonato showed me. I know I don’t have the means to help everyone in need, or will be there to save another child, but I couldn’t stand by and do nothing.”

Dimitri hummed. “That’s very noble of you, Ashe. I…” the Prince paused. “I hope your kindness doesn’t betray you. That no one takes advantage of your empathy.”

Ashe nodded. “Thank you, Your Highness. I’ll be careful.”

The sun was beginning to set over the horizon, so the pair made their way to meet up with Sylvain and Felix and head back to the palace. Sylvain and Felix were staying in their family suites at the palace, so they dropped Ashe off at the Gaspard house.

Lying in bed that night, Ashe thought about the day and what had happened to the boy in the streets. If Ashe hadn’t been near, that boy would have been arrested, charged with a crime, and locked in a cell for who knows how long. All for what?

_If we hadn’t been adopted, that might have been Evelyn. Or me._

_It was me, once upon a time._

What would Dimitri say if he ever found out?

As he fell into an uneasy sleep, Ashe vowed that Dimitri would never learn of his troubled past.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now we get into the fun stuff! 👀👀

Two weeks before the ball, Ashe went along with Felix and Sylvain to a capitol clothier to try on suits for the celebration. He didn’t plan on purchasing anything, but it was nice to be spending the day out with his friends. Ashe had never been to a clothier (was it just a fancy name for a tailor? Were they even the same thing?) but Sylvain swore that this was _the_ place to go.

“Seriously, I’ve tried to get Lorenz to move his shop to Gautier! The guy is a genius!”

Felix huffed. “Yeah. And we all know you need all the help you can get.

Ashe laughed while Sylvain raised a hand to his chest in mock hurt. “Felix, you wound me.”

“Shut up!”

The door to the shop jingled as they entered. Looking around, Ashe was overwhelmed by the number of styles and colors that adorned the mannequins and racks. In the center of the shop was a formal salon and dressing rooms and further beyond that was a closed-off area, presumably the alterations department.

“Be with you in a moment!” called a voice from the back.

Sylvain and Felix began browsing the racks while Ashe hung back looking over their shoulders.

“If you see something you like, pull it and we can try it on,” Sylvain encouraged.

Ashe shook his head. “I’m not even sure I know my size, honestly,” he admitted. “Celia usually takes care of all that.”

“You’ve come to the right place then.”

Ashe turned to see a tall man with purple hair as straight as the sewing pins on his wrist pincushion. Dressed in a fitted and perfectly tailored suit similar to those around the shop, the man could have been a model.

“Why in the world would we go anywhere else, Lorenz?” Sylvain asked with a playful trill.

Lorenz rolled his eyes. “Save it, Gautier, you know flattery won’t get you anywhere with me.”

Sylvain shrugged. “Can’t blame a guy for trying.”

“Anyway… Follow me and we’ll get started.” Lorenz led the trio to a side of the main salon, assigning each of them a dressing room, writing their names on the doors. “I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve already pulled some styles for you two,” he indicated to Sylvain and Felix, “that I’m fairly certain you’ll approve of.”

He turned to Ashe. “Unfortunately, I don’t know you at all compared to them, so we’ll start from square one. Do you know if there’s a certain style of formalwear that you’re more comfortable in?”

Ashe shook his head. “No. Like I said, our housemaid usually takes care of that. She picks everything out, does the alterations, I just have to put it on.”

Lorenz nodded. “I see. Well, if you’re willing to leave it up to me, I have some ideas we can try on, see what you like and go from there.”

“Sure, I guess. I’m in your care.”

The other man chuckled. “Excellent. I think I know just the thing.”

As Lorenz flitted off around the shop grabbing things for Ashe to try on, Felix emerged from his dressing room in a navy blue suit.

“The jacket’s too big,” he mumbled. “And I don’t like the color.”

Sylvain stepped out a moment later in a charcoal grey ensemble with black accents. His was more fitted than Felix’s and the dark colors contrasted nicely with his red hair.

The three of them talked about the fits and colors, likes and dislikes in the styles when Lorenz returned with garment bags draped over his arm and ushered Ashe into his dressing room.

“Try this one in front first,” he instructed, tapping the bag. “It’s a bit bold but don’t write it off hastily.”

Alone in the dressing room, Ashe unzipped the bag revealing a dark purple colored suit. There was a slight sparkle in the jacket from small amethysts sewn into the fabric. Attached to the jacket was a satin sash, that fell across his chest, and hung just below his knees.

He dressed and stepped back out into the main salon, careful not to trip on the pant legs which were just a bit too long. Felix must have gone back to his own dressing room; Sylvain was standing on a pedestal chatting with Lorenz while the latter took measurements. Ashe took up a spot on another pedestal to get a good view of himself in the mirror.

“Wow,” he whispered. Lorenz was right. The suit was definitely bolder than anything he’d worn before, but it looked… perfect. Aside from minor hem alterations, the suit fit like a glove.

“I knew it,” Lorenz said as Sylvain let out a low whistle. “That color really compliments your hair, and with a matching mask, your eyes will really pop. I should have one in the back.” He disappeared to the back room.

Ashe caught Sylvain’s gaze in the mirror. “What’d’ya think?” he asked with a shrug.

Sylvain grinned. “I told you Lorenz was the best in the business. If I hadn’t already told Felix he could be my date to the ball, I would definitely ask you.”

“Shut up, Sylvain.” Felix sighed exasperatedly, emerging from the dressing room again. This time he was dressed in a classic black tuxedo which he seemed more agreeable to over the navy blue suit.

“Okay, I’m replacing Felix. Ashe, would you like to go to the ball with me?”

Ashe laughed. “Sure Sylvain. But you’re probably better off going with Felix. I’m not much of a dancer. In fact, I’m not even sure I’ll be going.”

“What do you mean?!” Sylvain whined. “It’s gonna be the biggest party of our lives! You have to be there!”

Ashe shrugged. “Parties aren’t really my thing, especially formal parties. I’m never sure if I’m acting correctly or saying the right things.”

“You’re overthinking it,” Felix said as he messed with his bowtie. “This isn’t strictly a political event, it’s Dimitri’s birthday. Sure, the press will be there, and the nobles and other lords, but it’s not a diplomatic affair.”

“Yeah!” Sylvain agreed. “Besides, no one can mess up more than that New Year’s celebration when Lord Reinholdt’s mistress showed up. That was good gossip for a long time.”

Ashe played with the sash on the jacket. “I don’t know you guys.”

“Dimitri will miss you if you’re not there~” Sylvain trilled.

Ashe’s heart skipped a beat and he hoped his friends didn’t see him tense. Would the Prince actually notice if he attended? Would he be looking for Ashe among the sea of faces across the ballroom? Would they share a drink, conversation, a dance--

He shook his head. “It’s a masquerade. His Highness wouldn’t notice if I _was_ there let alone if I wasn’t.” Ashe took another look at his reflection in the mirror, noticing Felix rolling his eyes in the background. “What? He won’t!”

Felix looked unconvinced. “He will.” He insisted flatly and Sylvain nodded.

Ashe couldn’t help but feel like he was on the outside of an inside joke. Whatever Felix and Sylvain thought they saw between him and the Prince just wasn’t there. Sure, they sometimes chatted outside of council sessions, and they took that trip to the bakery… But Prince Dimitri was no stranger to royal hospitality. He’s friendly enough, but with this being Ashe’s first time in the capital, it was just good manners to check-in, show him around… The late King Lambert had done similar things for Lonato and Christophe. 

Ashe was nothing special.

Looking back into the mirror, the amethysts in the suit sparkled softly in the light. He allowed himself to imagine that maybe he could be something special, like a protagonist in the stories he told Dimitri about. In another life, under different circumstances, Ashe could imagine being born into nobility and never having to struggle to survive or tell his sister no. They’d have everything they’d ever want and more, and they’d share their blessings with the people of their territory.

In this life, Ashe would be no stranger to the royal court. He and Prince Dimitri would be good friends, who knew each other well. They would grow up together and grow closer. At his birthday celebration, Ashe and the Prince would share a dance and a kiss…

Snapping fingers broke Ashe out of his reverie. “Huh? What?”

Sylvain put his hand down, smirking like he just got away with something. “Thought we lost ya there, bud.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “Were you thinking something dirty?”

Ashe might as well have been sunburned for how warm his face got. “Sylvain!” he groaned, embarrassed.

Sylvain just laughed and gave him a wink. “No worries, man. Your secret’s safe with me.” He looked critically at Ashe and gestured to the suit he was still wearing. “Seriously though, you look amazing in this. Buy it. Come to Dimitri’s party with Fe and me. We’ll hang out, have some drinks, enough to get Felix to dance with me…”

“Like hell you will!” Felix scoffed from the other side of the salon.

Sylvain waved him off and continued. “...dance with some lovelies, eat our weight in tiny cakes and cocktail wieners. We’ll have a good time~! What’d’ya say?”

Ashe looked at his reflection one more time. He had to admit, he looked and felt good in this suit. It’s easily the most expensive thing he’s ever touched, let alone worn! In fact, dressed like this, hidden behind a mask, no one would believe that he was just a commoner, an orphan taken in from the streets.

He could almost imagine it himself.

_Almost._

Unfortunately, reality was louder than his imagination. He would never be true nobility, no matter what Lonato said or how his adoption papers were written. He was a nobody playing pretend.

Ashe shook his head and sighed, removing the bow tie from his neck. He stepped off the pedestal and made his way back to the dressing room. “Thanks Sylvain, but I’m gonna pass. It’s just not my scene.”

The week of the party arrived quickly and the entire palace bustled with activity. With all the final preparations needing to be made, Ashe barely saw Dimitri outside of the council room. Which was fine by Ashe. If he didn’t see the Prince, he didn’t have to address the fact that he wouldn’t be at the party.

He hadn’t _technically_ been avoiding Dimitri. He just… knew the Prince was busy and didn’t seek him out.

Yeah… That’s it.

On the night of the party, Ashe sat on the ledge seat of his window, looking out toward the palace. The gallant structure was breathtaking on a normal night, but tonight it was especially magnificent. The air around the castle glowed with spotlights and the sky occasionally sparkled with fireworks. It was a true spectacle, even from a distance.

From the streets below, the citizens were celebrating as well. Music blasted from the local bars and restaurants, and people danced in the streets. After all, it wasn’t every day the Prince turned 25.

Ashe felt himself starting to regret his choice to not attend.

“Ashe, darling.”

Ashe startled, turning sharply in his seat, the book in his lap hitting the ground with a _thud._

“Sorry! Didn’t mean to scare you.” Celia said with a coy smile suggesting she wasn’t really sorry. “You have a visitor in the study, dear.”

“O-oh. Alright. Uhm… who is it?” 

Still smiling, Celia mimed zipping her lips and Ashe shot her an exasperated look that said, _‘Really?’_ The housemaid laughed and bounced back into the hallway. Sighing, Ashe picked up the book, tossed it on his bed, and made his way downstairs to the study.

His heartbeat calming as he walked, Ashe racked his brain, trying to think of who would come calling. Lonato had left for the party almost an hour ago, and as far as Ashe could think, anyone who would come by would be at the palace.

He opened the door to the study and greeted his guest.

“Thank you for your patien-- Sylvain?!”

In the center of the room, clearly feeling at home, sat Sylvain, dressed to the nines in the charcoal suit from their shopping trip.

“Hey handsome,” Sylvain smirked.

Ashe ignored the flirtation. “What are you doing here? You should be at Dimitri’s party.”

“And so should you!” Sylvain stood, smoothing the non-existent wrinkles from his jacket. “Not to worry, we have plenty of time. That shindig won’t really get going for another hour or so.”

“What do you mean _we_?” Ashe asked incredulously. “I already told you, I’m not going.”

Sylvain grabbed Ashe’s shoulders and stared seriously into his eyes. “Ashe. I would be a terrible friend if I let you miss this. This is your first time at court and you deserve to experience all the glitz and glamour.”

Ashe turned away from Sylvain’s intense stare. “You don’t understand,” he whispered. “I don’t belong here.”

“Look… I won’t pretend to know what’s running through your mind now or at any time these past few weeks, how unfamiliar this all is. But let me tell you what I do know.” He paused. “I’ve been around nobles my entire life. None of us are perfect and chivalrous like the stories. In fact, some of us are actually pretty terrible. We need to see more people like you. I can’t think of anyone who belongs here _more_ than you, Ashe.”

“I didn’t mean--”

“No, no. Hang on a sec, let me finish.” Sylvain ran his hand through his hair. (How he didn’t mess up the careful sweep of his curls, Ashe will never know.) “What I’m trying to say is that sometimes life deals us a crappy hand. But you get the chance to draw new cards, better cards, and you can win the whole pot. You may never know the odds, but if you don’t play, you’ll never win.”

Ashe knew Sylvain was right. After all, hadn’t he already gambled and won the jackpot? He and Evelyn were cold and hungry; he picked a noble’s house at random. He was caught, charges dismissed, and then adopted into a home where he and his sister would always be warm and full.

In comparison, this new gamble was nothing. At best, he went, danced, and had a great time with his friends. At worst… well, all of his previous excuses seemed trivial. However…

“But I didn’t buy the suit. I don’t have anything to wear!”

A knock at the study door drew their attention and Sylvain hustled to open it. “Don’t worry, Ashe. I took care of everything.” He opened the door to reveal an absolutely giddy Celia. She entered carrying a large hanging garment bag.

“Ready for the big reveal?” she asked. When Sylvain nodded, she held the hanger in one hand and dramatically unzipped the front of the bag with the other.

As the bag fell away, Ashe gasped. It was the suit from the salon! Even in the low light of the study, the amethysts sparkled in waves as Celia and Sylvain moved around. Ashe couldn’t believe it.

“You bought it?” he asked. “Sylvain, this… I… How can I ever repay you?”

“Just call me your fairy godfather.” Sylvain joked. “Seriously, don’t worry about it. Now come on! The party of our lives awaits!”

Ashe’s eyes shone with a new determination and excitement. “You’ve got it!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~A bit of BFF Sylvashe, as a treat.~~
> 
> Bonus points if you can find my smol song reference in this chapter. ;)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: There's art for this chapter!! I was partnered with the lovely [cobaltcandi](https://twitter.com/cobaltcandi) for this bang and they made [such adorable art!!](https://twitter.com/cobaltcandi/status/1357421866613309441) It's a bit of a spoiler for the end of the chapter ~~(Though, you all knew going into this that's it's a Cinderella AU, so maybe not actually a spoiler because, tropes?? xD)~~ but I'll have it linked in the end notes too!

In the back seat of Sylvain’s luxury car, Ashe nervously toyed with the ring on his finger. The initial adrenaline from the house had worn off and reality was settling back over him.

What if he did something embarrassing like that noble at the New Year’s celebration? What if he stepped on someone’s shoes while he danced? What if Dimitri, in an effort to do damage control, asked him to leave? What if--

“You’re thinking too loud,” Sylvain said beside him with a sigh. “Relax, buddy. It’s just a party. Whatever terrible scenarios you’re imagining won’t happen.”

Ashe nodded, trying to take comfort in Sylvain’s confidence. For all intents and purposes, Sylvain was right. Ashe had been in council sessions for weeks, contributing to discussions in Lonato’s place. Nothing could possibly be more nerve-wracking than that.

So why was he left so on edge?

Sylvain passed him a flask and Ashe reflexively took a sip, coughing at the burn in his throat. “What _is_ this?”

“Liquid courage,” his friend joked. “I promise you’ll be fine, Ashe. I wouldn’t steer you wrong. Think of it this way; You’re a mysterious noble at a masquerade. No one will recognize you. You can be the hero of your own story tonight and tomorrow, you’ll be plain old ordinary Ashe again.”

“But I’m plain old ordinary Ashe now. I’m just in a fancy suit.”

Sylvain frowned at him and sighed.

“The nobility can be stressful, believe me, I know. But you don’t have to work so hard to impress them.” He held up a hand, silencing Ashe’s rebuttal. “I don’t mean that in a flippant ‘no one cares what you do’ way, because they do. But if you want people to love you, you offer them something they haven’t got. And that’s you, yourself, Ashe. They don’t have you!

“Now, I’m sure you’re thinking, ‘Sylvain, that’s a bit hypocritical,’ and you’re right. But I also know that noble confidence isn’t won overnight or in the backseat of a Lexus. So take it one day at a time. Tonight, you’re behind a mask; tomorrow, maybe not. What have you got to lose?”

Ashe hummed considering Sylvain’s words. “Maybe you’re right….” he admitted, taking another cringey swig from the flask. “And it’s just one night.” He nodded, determination flaring in his eyes. “Alright! I can do this!”

Sylvain grinned, eyes mischievous like a fox. “That’s the spirit!”

The car made a turn and began to slow, crawling ever closer to the lights and sounds of the palace. Along the drive, there was a cacophony of sound and motion. Cameras flashed and people laughed as they tried to guess what guests were arriving.

Sylvain pocketed his flask and smoothed his jacket. “Shall we?”

Ashe tied his mask behind his head, making sure it wouldn’t budge, then took a steadying breath, and nodded.

The car came to a stop and a valet opened the door, welcoming Ashe to a new world, with bright lights and a magic of its own.

After showing their invitations to the guard at the door and going through the numerous security checks, the pair made their way down the grand entryway toward the ballroom. The palace had been decorated from floor to ceiling in lights, flowers, and bunting. Everything shone an ethereal silver and gold glow, deepening the blue tones synonymous with Faerghus and the Royal Family. It was a simple extravagance, managing to make the entryway feel warm and full, yet not overbearing.

Ashe felt himself relax at the normalcy of it all.

Near the threshold to the ballroom, Sylvain tapped Ashe on the shoulder, his gaze drawn down the corridor.

“Go on ahead! I’ll catch up with you in a minute!” he said, leaving Ashe alone.

“Wait, Sylvain!” Ashe called after him, but it was too late. With a sigh, he turned back toward the ornate archway looming in front of him. Steeling himself, he took a breath and entered the ballroom.

Ashe looked around in awe, taking in all the sights and sounds of the ballroom, the party in full swing. Giant chandeliers hung from the ceiling, casting the ballroom in an angelic glow. In the center of the room, couples and pairs were gliding around the dance floor in time with the orchestra.

‘ _It’s almost like a dream._ ’ Ashe thought as he made his way through the crowd.

He moved through the throng of people, keeping an eye out for a familiar face. Maybe he’d be able to find Felix until he met up with Sylvain again. As he walked, he felt eyes follow him, not unlike the lords in the council room that first day. Were they staring at him? He took a glass of champagne from a passing waiter just to give his hands something to hold on to. 

‘ _Who could that be?_ ’ Someone whispered as he passed.

‘ _I don’t know. Could they be from Adrestia?_ ’ Another suggested.

Ashe smiled nervously at those who met his gaze, though no one stopped him or questioned his attendance. It looked like Sylvain was right! No one recognized him! No one knew who he was!

Eventually, he came to a stop in a corner of the ballroom, near one of the grand columns just watching the other guests move about. Hopefully, he was in a spot where his friends could easily find him, yet out of the way enough to not really draw attention.

He watched as women in full gowns and men in dashing suits moved seamlessly around the dance floor and other revelers. As he looked around, he noticed guests staring at him, looking quickly away as he saw them. For some reason, he was the gossip of the party, and he didn’t know why. Deciding to ignore it as best as he could, he took a sip of his champagne.

“Excuse me, Sir?”

Ashe startled, luckily not spilling his drink. A woman in a beautiful red ball gown and feathered black mask stood to his right, smiling and chuckling at him.

“Oh dear, my sincerest apologies. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“O-oh no, that’s alright,” Ashe responded. “I was lost in my thoughts. How can I help you?”

The woman laughed again. “Sir, I was wondering if you were here with someone this evening. And, if you’re not and it’s not too bold of me, to ask if you would like to share a dance?”

Ashe felt heat rise in his cheeks. This woman was asking to dance with him!

‘ _You can be the hero of your own story tonight…_ ’ Sylvain’s advice came back to him.

At that moment, he made a decision.

Waving down a waiter and handing off his champagne flute, Ashe turned back to the woman and bowed deeply. “My lady, it would be my honor to escort you in the next dance, though I will admit, I’m a bit out of practice.”

She laughed again, Ashe noticing a blush rising on her cheeks as well. “I’m sure we will have a fantastic time.”

The orchestra played their final notes and Ashe held out his arm to lead the woman in the next dance.

One dance led to another and before he knew it, Ashe had lost count of how many partners he’d shared the floor with. His legs felt like jelly and his voice was dry and cracking, in need of a glass of water.

As the song concluded, Ashe bowed to his partner, an older gentleman from one of the Northern territories, and excused himself from the dance floor. At the edge of the room, he found an empty table and took a seat, asking a passing waiter for a glass of water. Looking out over the crowd as he waited, he wondered where Sylvain and Felix were, promising to look for them after his break.

A flute of champagne appeared in front of him. “Oh, I asked for--” he turned and stopped, watching as a man sat next to him.

Prince Dimitri.

Dressed in royal regalia, sapphire eyes hidden behind a mask, the Prince’s profile was unmistakable.

“M-my apologies, Your Highness!” he stuttered. “I-I didn’t realize it was you.”

The Prince smiled, not at all bothered. “No apologies necessary, Sir. I did sneak up on you a bit. I trust you are enjoying the festivities?”

Ashe nodded. “Of course, Your Highness. It’s a wonderful celebration.” He smiled. “Happy birthday, Your Highness.”

Dimitri nodded. “Thank you, Sir. The Goddess has blessed me with another year to share with my people and I am forever grateful.” The Prince looked out over the ballroom. Ashe could see the genuine love and duty the Prince felt for his people reflected on his face.

Ashe took a moment to admire Dimitri’s silhouette. How well his jacket fit over his broad shoulders, medals on his chest glinting even in the low light of the ballroom. The crown upon his head was simple yet distinguished and looked like it belonged there. Even his blond hair, pulled back and out of his face, looked perfect.

“I’m glad to see you take a break.” The Prince continued, still looking out over the ballroom. “I was afraid I would have to step in and order the other guests to leave you alone for a moment of respite.”

Ashe’s heart fluttered at his thoughtfulness. Dimitri had been watching him long enough to know he had been dancing for a while without breaks.

“Oh, it wouldn’t have been a problem. I would have gotten a chance to try out my Felix impersonation.”

“Felix? You know Duke Fraldarius’ son?”

Ashe tensed, a sudden realization coming over him.

Even Dimitri didn’t recognize him!

“O-only in passing,” Ashe replied, hoping his voice didn’t betray his surprise. “He just seems like the type of man who doesn’t do things to keep up polite appearances.”

Dimitri laughed, drawing the attention of some of the guests around them. “I’d say that’s a very accurate assumption of Felix. He’s not very tactful with his words, but he’s very trustworthy and loyal to his friends. I’m lucky to count him as one of mine.”

Ashe sipped his champagne. It felt wrong letting Dimitri talk to him like this. Hiding from him. Lying to him!

And yet, another part of him ached to take this chance. 

Without knowing who he was, nobles and others of status had approached him and asked for a dance. They spoke with him, gliding around the dance floor as if they were from the same world, even though if they met on the street, they wouldn’t spare Ashe a second glance or give him the time of day.

He would always be plain, ordinary Ashe Ubert, adopted son of Lonato Gaspard; An orphan without a family, without a home, plucked from the streets and given a second chance.

But just for tonight, he could be someone else entirely. He could be something more.

‘ _You can be the hero of your own story tonight…_ ’

The orchestra prepared another tune and Ashe affirmed the decision he made earlier in the evening.

Next to him, the Prince stood from his seat and offered his arm to Ashe.

“Would you humor me for a dance, sir…” Dimitri paused, eyes widening in embarrassment behind his mask. “Oh, dear. My sincerest apologies. I cannot seem to recall your name.”

Ashe laughed, standing to face the Prince. “No apology necessary, Your Highness. We fell into such easy conversation that I neglected to give it to you.”

Dimitri laughed as well and nervously tucked a loose strand of hair behind his ear. Goddess, Ashe would give anything to hear that melodic sound repeated for days. The brightness of Dimitri’s smile outshone the sun on its brightest day, he was sure of it.

With a bow, Ashe introduced himself. “My name is Duran, Your Highness,” he said, deferring to his mother’s maiden name. “It is an honor to make your acquaintance.”

Dimitri dipped his head in acknowledgement. “Sir Duran, the pleasure is all mine. I am grateful for your attendance this evening.” He offered Ashe his left hand again. “May I have this dance?”

Ashe nodded, taking the Prince’s hand in his and followed him to the dance floor, revelers parting as they approached. The band struck up a slow ballad of a song and Dimitri effortlessly led them in a traditional Faerghun waltz.

Ashe felt like he was gliding, truly floating on air. There were no missteps, no stepping on toes, no bumping into other dancers even though the floor was full. When Ashe looked around, he noticed the party had almost stopped, eyes glued to his dance with the Prince. His nerves built up again, and he let out a shaky breath.

“Look at me.”

Ashe’s eyes were drawn back to Prince Dimitri, who spoke with such care and softness, despite the command.

“Pay them no mind,” the Prince said. “For now, it’s just the two of us.”

With a nod of warning, the Prince spun Ashe away, then pulled him back into his arms, effortless and graceful. Coming back into his arms, Ashe felt the nerves disappear and he relaxed into Dimitri’s strong embrace and the rest of the world melted away.

After what felt like hours, they left the dance floor, Dimitri leading them out of the ballroom and into a small sitting room attached to the main hall. From the corner of his eye, Ashe saw Dedue following them, taking up guard just outside the door, a silent shadow never too far away from the Prince should he need aid.

“I hope you won’t think me too bold, Sir Duran, stealing you away from the celebration like this,” Dimitri said, motioning for Ashe to take next to him on a plush couch.

“Not at all, Your Highness,” Ashe responded as he sat. “I am quite honored, in fact, that you wish to share your time with me.”

A servant entered, setting down a pitcher of water and glasses, pouring one for each man before bowing slightly and leaving them alone again.

“Nonsense, the honor is all mine.” The Prince reached behind his head, untying his mask and setting it on the side table. “If I may say, Sir, I was quite taken with you in the ballroom. Your eyes… they are even more striking in this light.”

Heat flared on Ashe’s cheeks. “Your Highness,” he said with a playful laugh. “Are you flirting with me?”

Dimitri laughed as well. “I suppose I am. If you are amenable to such a thing?”

“I am,” he whispered.

“As am I.” The prince moved closer. “May I…?” He raised his hands and placed them behind Ashe’s head, beginning to work on untying the knot of his mask. Their faces were so close together, Ashe wasn’t sure what would happen first: his unmasking or would the Prince close the distance between them?

A clock in the sitting room struck the top of the hour and Ashe startled, shoving Dimitri away.

“Oh, Goddess! I-I’m so sorry!”

“No, no, that’s alright! I forgot my place.”

The chiming of the clock slowed and eventually stopped.

“Midnight?” Ashe asked, turning to the clock to see for himself.

“It appears so,” Dimitri said, backing away from Ashe to give him some space.

Ashe sat frozen, his heart thundering loudly in his chest. His mind was a hurricane. It was as if a spell had been broken or as if he had woken from a dream. He was no longer a knight from a storybook; He was Ashe again, and he began processing the events of the last few hours.

He was at Dimitri’s party. 

He had danced with nobles and influential people of the capital.

He had danced with the Prince.

He was _alone_ with the Prince.

He had almost kissed...

“I guess it’s true that time flies--”

“I have to go!” Ashe stood quickly and turned toward the door.

The Prince stood as well and grasped Ashe’s wrist. “Go? No, wait!”

Ashe was stopped by Dimitri’s strength. He turned to face the Prince, eyes wide. “I’m sorry, Your Highness, but you don’t understand.”

“Sir, please. I apologize for my actions tonight. They are unbecoming of a man of my stature.”

“No, no, that’s not it, Your Highness.” He tugged his arm trying to free himself from Dimitri’s grasp, voice rising in urgency. “I had a wonderful evening, truly, but I must go. Now. Please.”

“Wait! When may I see you again?”

Ashe looked into the Prince’s eyes. ‘ _Tomorrow_ , he wanted to say. ‘ _Any day you like, Dimitri_.

Ashe’s own eyes filled with tears as he knew what his answer must be.

“Never.”

The Prince stared, dumbfounded, loosening his grip enough for Ashe to pull away and run out of the sitting room. He ran down the main corridor, past servants and guards, and down the steps. Looking around the drive, he spotted a luxury taxi car and hopped in.

“Drive,” he told the driver before they could ask his destination. “Please, hurry.”

Without question, the driver began pulling away from the curb and down the long driveway to the main street. Ashe risked a glance back toward the palace. He saw Dimitri standing where the car had been, watching them drive away.

Ashe began to settle when the driver merged into capital traffic, thick with revelers having their own celebrations. He gave the driver directions to the house, then removed his mask and wiped at his eyes.

With a shaky hand, he felt for his ring, something to help calm his nerves and stay his panic.

With a gasp, he realized his ring was gone.

‘ _Oh no_ ,’

Ashe patted his pockets, checked the seat and floorboards of the car. Finding nothing, he thought back, considering how he may have lost it.

Clenching his fist, he realized there was only one explanation.

The ring must have come off when he pulled away from Dimitri.

The Prince had it.

‘ _What have I done?_ ’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: [Click here to see Cobalt's adorable art that goes along with this chapter!!](https://twitter.com/cobaltcandi/status/1357421866613309441)
> 
> Please imagine one of their dances is to the Faerghus equivalent of 'Once Upon a December' because I'm cheesy like that. Dancing boars instead of bears, or something. xD
> 
> Buckle-up friends! We're getting serious now!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All right friends! Are your seat belts buckled?? Things start picking up in this chapter! (Hope you enjoy!)

In the first council session the following week, Ashe was distracted the entire meeting. Try as he might, he just could not focus on the conversation and debate over the updated tax plan. Or was it trade agreements this time? Argh! He didn’t know, and, unfortunately, didn’t care.

His mind was still on the ball. How he arrived, a man of mystery, as regal and noble as Dimitri. How he shared a dance with the Prince. How they almost kissed…

Ashe shook his head, drawing a concerned gaze from Dimitri. Before the Prince could ask if he was alright, Ashe smiled and nodded at him, hoping to show that he was fine. His act must have worked since Dimitri returned the smile, the Prince’s eyes shining that bright, brilliant blue that took Ashe’s breath away. 

He really needed to stop thinking like that, giving in to his fantasies. Royalty doesn’t fall in love with the common folk in real life, just in the stories. And Ashe was no storied hero or protagonist. He’s just a man--a boy, really--who lucked in to a small portion of nobility. There was nothing special about him.

Finally ( _‘Thank the Goddess.’_ ), the council adjourned for the day and Ashe moved to make his escape before Dimitri or Dedue could hold him back. He needed time away from the Prince to clear his head and get back to normal.

Unfortunately, fate is a cruel mistress and someone else called to him before he left the council chamber.

“Lord Ubert, a moment, if you please?”

Ashe turned to Cornelia, the Royal Advisor, surprise written on his face. “Oh-- Of course, Lady Cornelia,” He stepped toward her so the other men could exit the council, blessedly, Prince Dimitri among them. After a moment it was just him and Cornelia alone in the empty room. He cleared his throat, the sound echoing off the walls. “How may I assist you, my lady?”

Cornelia was silent, typing and swiping on her tablet. Ashe almost thought he was being ignored before the advisor spoke.

“I wanted to ask you about the ball,” she began, still not looking at him.

Ashe stiffened. Why did Cornelia want to ask him about the ball? Did she know he was there? Did she see him and Dimitri steal away from the celebration? Before he could get lost in panicked thoughts, she continued.

“You may have heard, the Prince shared a dance with an unknown nobleman. The mystery man accidentally left his ring behind with the Prince. I was wondering if perhaps you had seen the man or knew where we may find him. Prince Dimitri is insistent on returning the item himself.”

“Oh, is that so?” he replied, hoping his voice wouldn’t betray his nervousness. “I’m afraid I won’t be of any assistance, my lady. I was under the weather that night and was not in attendance.”

Cornelia stopped her swiping and typing. She looked at Ashe like a serpent ready to strike. “Oh no?” she asked with a look that suggested surprise, but not genuine. “Pity. I trust you are feeling better now?”

Ashe nodded, wondering what Cornelia was plotting. “I am much better, thank you.”

“I could have sworn I saw you…” she mused, tapping her index finger on her chin. “It must have been your twin!” she laughed, making Ashe feel more uneasy. “For there was a man, silver hair, bright green eyes shining from behind his mask… and looking absolutely striking in a plum colored suit, gleaming with amethysts.”

Ashe’s blood ran cold. She knew! He didn’t know how, but Cornelia knew he was Dimitri’s mystery dance. That he had been at the ball, danced with the Prince, almost kissed-- But if she knew, why hadn’t she told Dimitri? Why corner Ashe in an empty council room under the guise of needing his help?

The advisor continued. “Perhaps you may still be able to help me,” Her lips curved into a sly smirk as she handed him her tablet. “Tell me, Lord Ubert, do you recognize this man?”

He took the tablet and his stomach flipped at the image that greeted him. It was _him_! Ashe’s own face, years younger, eyes harsher and colder from a life on the streets, robbing and stealing to provide for his sister. This picture, his mugshot, was taken the night he broke into Lonato’s home. The night that changed his life, luckily for the better. There were times though, late at night, when this image and memories of the past haunted the back of his mind.

“Why are you showing me this?” he asked, barely a whisper though it echoed like a shot in the empty council room.

“Think of this as a… a friendly reminder,” Cornelia sneered, the last words dripping in venom. “The Prince does not think too highly of liars and criminals.”

Ashe swallowed, forcing himself to keep up the charade of politeness. “Of course,” he acknowledged. From somewhere deep within him, he found the remnants of the courage he had the night of the ball. “His Highness is a tolerant and forgiving leader though. He would not pass harsh judgement upon his subjects without knowing the full story first.”

Cornelia gritted her teeth and snatched the tablet from his hands. “You will **not** want to test me, _boy_. You have no leverage here. One word from me and the Prince will know all about your delinquent past and how you have been deceiving him, lying to him, just to get to the throne.”

“No! No, that’s not true!” Ashe clenched his hands to fists at his side.

“Ohh, but it is if I say it is! Who shall his Highness believe, hmm? His trusted advisor or a common street rat with nothing to his name that he did not steal?”

Ashe ground his teeth, tears starting to gather behind his eyes. Cornelia was right in one regard--without Lonato, he was nothing. A boy forced into a life of hardships by circumstances that were beyond his control. He had robbed and cheated his way through life, trying against the odds to provide for his family.

Dimitri would understand.

Wouldn’t he?

But, even if Dimitri would be the kind, tolerant, just and forgiving leader he hoped to be, like his father before him, everyone else would be much less forgiving. The court of public opinion, the council of Lords… they would be Ashe’s judge, jury, and executioner, and he would figuratively hang for his past injustices, not to mention the mark it would leave on Dimitri’s reign. If Ashe’s past were to be revealed in this way, it would do nothing but destroy everything Dimitri was working to build, a kingdom and a rule worthy of the Blaiddyd legacy.

Ashe could not be the reason all of Dimitri’s hard work went to waste. Resigned to reality, he knew what needed to be done.

“What do you want, Cornelia?” he asked, dropping the polite noble act, his anger and frustration coloring the council chamber.

Cornelia smiled like a cat toying with the mouse caught in her trap. “It would do you well to stay away from his Highness and stay out of my way.”

Footsteps echoed in the corridor, bringing their meeting to an end. Cornelia straightened herself, satisfied that her message had been received.

“Thank you for your insight, Lord Ubert.” she said jovially, back to her performance as the courteous advisor. She gathered her belongings and papers and made to exit the council room. She stopped next to Ashe and spoke a final nail into his heart. “His Highness is grateful for your cooperation.”

Ashe nodded and forced himself back to his noble act. “Of course, Lady Cornelia. I am honored to be of service.”

Cornelia nodded a final time and left Ashe alone in the council room, the door closing behind her with a _slam_ that echoed through the palace with a sense of doom and finality.

Ashe turned and braced himself on a table, tears dropping to the wooden surface, a steady stream of his anger and frustration.

Ashe made a decision before he set foot outside of the council chamber. He needed to keep his space from Dimitri or Cornelia would be his undoing. This council session ends in three weeks, but a group of Gaspard assistants would be returning within the week to prepare for Lonato’s return. Ashe would accompany them.

He told his father over dinner that night.

“Are you sure, Ashe?” Lonato asked, confused. “I believe there is still much to be gained if you were to remain at court.”

“I understand. I guess I’m a little more homesick than I anticipated.”

His father nodded sagely. “It happens to us all. You will eventually adapt and the time away will feel like nothing at all. Very well then. I’ll make sure Celia and the others know of your intentions.”

Ashe gave a small nod, silverware clinking against his plate.

“Ashe.”

Ashe looked across the table again at his father. Lonato smiled at him.

“I’m very proud of you, son. You’ve been a great help to me this session and a valuable voice for Gaspard in my place.”

Ashe felt a blush rise in his cheeks. Even after all these years of living with Lonato, he still wasn’t accustomed to such free flowing praise.

“Just doing my duty,” he said.

Before Lonato could respond, Celia entered the dining room drawing both men’s attention. “Pardon the interruption, my Lords. Ashe, you have a visitor in the sitting room.”

“Oh. Thank you. Tell them I’ll be just a moment.”

Celia nodded. “He said no rush, he’ll wait for you.” She curtsied and left the dining room.

Ashe finished dinner and excused himself to see to the guest in the study. Celia had not told him who exactly was waiting for him, as she liked to do for some mischievous reason. He didn’t really mind, but sometimes it was nice to have a small heads up.

He knocked on the door to the sitting room and waited a courteous moment before entering.

_Oh._ That’s why she didn’t tell him who his guest was.

“Dimitri,” Ashe greeted, closing the door softly behind him. “Hi.”

The Prince turned at the sound of his name, smiling softly. “Hello Ashe. I apologize for the lateness of the hour. I was in the neighborhood so to speak and felt that one last stop on my journey today couldn’t hurt. Unless you are busy--”

“No, no.” Ashe assured him. “Not at all. I’m glad to see you.”

Dimitri nodded. “I feel the same. Though, I do have a bit of official business to attend to while I’m here.”

Ashe motioned to the chairs and coffee table. “Please, take a seat then. Business first.”

“Thank you.” The pair sat around the coffee table, chairs adjacent. Once settled, Dimitri got straight to the point. “I’m sure you’ve heard the gossip surrounding the ball last week, yes?”

Ashe’s heart skipped a beat as he nodded. “Something about a mysterious nobleman and a dance, right?”

“Yes, exactly.” Dimitri sighed. The Prince reached into his breast pocket and produced a ring - Ashe’s ring. The one that had slipped off his finger as he ran away from the ball that night. “The nobleman lost his ring.” Dimitri continued. “I’ve been asking around; I was wondering if maybe you recognized it? Or knew someone who had lost it?”

Ashe took the ring and pretended to study it. He knew the ring, obviously, and he hoped his face didn’t betray him.

He shook his head and handed it back. “Sorry, I don’t recognize it. It’s a lovely piece of jewelry though. I’m sure he’d be glad to have it back, especially knowing you’ve taken such good care of it in the meantime.”

Dimitri nodded in resignation. “I do hope I find him someday, if only to return it.”

The Prince sat back in his chair and tented his fingers “I’ve been… torn, as of late. On the one hand, I want to meet them. It felt… different, dancing with him that night.” The Prince laughed. “That probably sounds crazy. How can you feel a connection to someone without knowing a thing about them?”

Ashe shrugged, hoping Dimitri couldn’t see him shaking. “It’s like a story. The Prince, a mysterious man, a dance… I think it’s quite romantic, personally. Not crazy.”

Dimitri smiled. “I’m glad you think so too. Yet… there is my dilemma. Whether to spend my time searching for this mystery man or to take a chance on a man I already know.”

Ashe’s heart skipped another beat. “I… I’m afraid I don’t follow, Dimitri.”

Dimitri reached across the table, taking Ashe’s hands in his own. “Ashe, I hope you will not think poorly of my forwardness, but I wish to get to know you better.”

Ashe stared at him. “What do you mean?” he asked, prompting for confirmation that this means what he thinks it means.

“I would like your permission to court you.”

Ashe’s heart thundered in his chest. The Prince was interested in him. Romantically! He can scarcely believe it! His mind raced through memories of the past few weeks, long looks across the council room (had Dimitri been staring at him too?), tea and pastries and conversation in the garden (had it been more than royal hospitality?), the ball (the ball!) where they shared a dance, a dance that Dimitri didn’t even know they had!

_The Prince does not think so highly of criminals._

Ashe tensed. Cornelia’s voice echoed in his head, pushing the blissful thoughts away for the harsh reality. Ashe was a commoner for all intents and purposes. His past is dark and even though he feels regret for what he had to do to survive, would Dimitri be able to look beyond that?

_It would do you well to stay away from His Highness._

“Ashe?”

Ashe blinked, brought out of his reveries by Dimitri’s voice. The Prince moved closer and placed a comforting touch on his shoulder.

“It wouldn’t have to be a formal arrangement, at least right away,” Dimitri continued, unaware of the spiral of thoughts in Ashe’s head. “Above all, I want you to be comfortable. There is no pressure or expectation.”

“Dimitri… I…” Ashe hesitated. His heart was screaming ‘yes!’ but his mind was louder, reminding him of the conversation with Cornelia.

_You will **not** want to test me,_ boy.

Dimitri’s eyes shone as bright as his smile, blue like the purest sky on a sunny afternoon in Gaspard. Ashe could easily imagine walking hand in hand with Dimitri through the city streets, showing him all the best things about where he grew up. It’s magical. He _wants_ this with Dimitri.

And yet… 

Ashe pulled away from the Prince’s grasp. “Dimitri… I’m flattered, truly. But… I’m afraid I don’t--I can’t return your feelings.”

The prince’s eyes darkened like a sudden summer storm and Ashe had to tear his gaze away, unable to look at the rejection he placed there.

“I’m returning to Gaspard next week.” Ashe continued quickly, stopping any rebuttal Dimitri may have had, any pleas he may have made. Ashe’s decision was final: He could not love Dimitri and he was leaving at the first chance he got.

Dimitri cleared his throat. “I see.” he acknowledged, trying to hide the hurt in his voice, but Ashe recognized it. “As always, I appreciate your honesty. Thank you, Lord Ubert.”

Ashe flinched at the return to formality, the use of a noble’s title. It sounded so… foreign, coming from Dimitri’s lips, and suddenly Ashe was back in the council chambers on day one, nervous and small, and clearly out of his element.

“I’m sorry.” he whispered, not even sure the Prince could hear him.

There was a knock on the door but neither man moved to answer it. A polite moment passed before the door opened and Dedue stepped into the sitting room.

“My apologies for the intrusion, your Highness, but we must be returning to the palace.”

From the corner of his eye, Ashe saw the Prince nod in acknowledgement. “Yes, thank you, Dedue.” he replied, voice wavering slightly. “I will only be a moment longer.” The Prince’s vassal nodded once and retreated back into the hallway, door closing softly in his wake.

“It seems our time has run out.” the Prince said solemnly standing up from the chair. Ashe stood as well, out of formal habit and forced himself to lift his gaze and look at the Prince one final time, willing his tears not to fall.

“Dimitri--” Ashe started, but was silenced as the Prince placed a gloved finger to Ashe’s lips. He then leaned in toward Ashe and placed a chaste kiss on his cheek, a selfish and improper act, but Ashe couldn’t find it in him to push the Prince away this time.

“I wish you a safe return to Gaspard.” the Prince said with a sad smile. “May our paths cross again.” And with one final nod of his head, Dimitri turned and exited, leaving Ashe alone in the empty sitting room.

Ashe stood there in the middle of the room, unable to move, tears finally streaming down his face. He didn’t know how long he stood there or what time Celia found eventually him, but when she embraced him, he fell to the floor, his heart feeling as though it were in a million pieces.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry. T-T


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is my favorite! ^-^
> 
> There's art for this chapter!! Cobalt is amazing!! [Check it out here! (Spoiler for the end of the chapter, just FYI!)](https://twitter.com/cobaltcandi/status/1357757371561373696?s=20) (It's linked in the end notes too if you don't want to be spoiled.)

The return flight to Gaspard felt like a lifetime. Ashe stared out the window watching the clouds pass by, but not really seeing them. Strangely, he felt as though he had left a piece of himself behind in Fhirdiad and that the capital was calling to him, begging him to return.

_This must be what heartbreak feels like._

If this was a story, the hero would heed that call, return to the place and person they left. There would be a reunion, tearful, joyous, and hopeful, with promises of a bright future. Whatever challenge came their way, they would face together. The people would cheer and the hero and their love would live happily ever after.

Love.

Is that what this was? This feeling, this pull in his chest, regret and worry of having ruined such a special connection to Dimitri…

Ashe shook the thoughts from his head. _‘Idiot!’_ he chided himself. The longer he allowed himself to fall into this fantasy, the harder it would be to let go. And he needed to let go.

 _You do **NOT** want to test me,_ boy.

Even now, high above the Faerghus countryside and miles away from the capital, Cornelia’s words lurked in the back of his mind, creeping around the corners to remind him just how unworthy he is.

Christophe and Evelyn met him at the airport. His sister ran and jumped into his arms, almost bringing them both to the ground.

“You’re finally back!” she smiled, eyes wide in anticipation and talking a mile a minute. “Tell me _everything_. What’s the capital like? Did you bring me a present? Did you meet the Prince? What’s he like? Is he really as cute in person as he is on TV? Did you meet any girls? Did you get to go to the ball? What about--”

“Slow down, Evie!” Christophe admonished with a laugh, ruffling her hair. “Let him try to answer a question before you ask another.”

“But I have so. Many. Questions!” she insisted.

Ashe laughed. “I’ll tell you everything when we get home, okay Evelyn? I promise.”

Satiated for now, his sister smiled and hugged him again. “I missed you so much.”

Ashe tugged her close to him. “I missed you too.”

“I missed you too, ya know,” Christophe joked with an easy shrug. “Admittedly not as much as she did, but, yeah.”

Ashe set Evelyn back on the ground and hugged his brother. “I missed you too, Chris. Admittedly, not as much as I missed Evelyn, but yeah.”

Christophe pulled away and looked into Ashe’s eyes. He could always tell when something was bothering Ashe, and apparently some time away hadn’t dulled his brother’s intuition. Ashe gave a slight shake of his head. _I don’t wanna talk about it._

Christophe nodded in understanding, and took Evelyn’s hand. “Alright then. Let’s head home so Ashe can shower us with presents!”

“H-hey wait a minute! I didn’t actually say anything about presents!”

For the next few weeks, Ashe wandered around Castle Gaspard in a bit of a daze. Just when he thought he was starting to move on from his feelings for Dimitri, something would remind him of the Prince and his time in the capital; Small things like his favorite coffee shop advertising a special chamomile tea blend or the bright blue sky.

Prince Dimitri started appearing in the papers more frequently since his birthday, though less for his policies and more for his personal life. With his coronation fast approaching, the pressure was on for the Prince to take a partner. Faerghun law stated that if the Prince was unmarried at his 25th birthday, he would be allowed to assume the throne, however he had three months to marry or else his rule would be forfeit and passed to the next heir. Since Dimitri was an only child and his step-siblings were not fully related, there was no suitable heir from the Blaiddyd family; Rule would then pass on to the Royal Advisor.

Ashe cringed thinking about what Lady Cornelia’s rule would be like. Luckily the Prince’s coronation was next week, and he would be married before the new year.

Flipping through today’s paper, Ashe’s eyes fell on an article speculating on the Prince’s relationship status, currently focusing on a man from Almarya. Reading it through, the journalist speculated the man, Claude von Reigan, was a son of Almaryan nobility, distantly related to their king. While a marriage might not prove immediately beneficial to Prince Dimitri and the people of Faerghus, the article admitted that it’s never too early for the Prince to begin forming alliances separate from those his father had once held.

“What’cha reading?”

Ashe startled at his sister’s voice. He’d been so lost in his thoughts and the words of the article he hadn’t heard her enter the library.

“Nothing really. Just the paper.”

Evelyn scooted a chair closer to her brother and sat. Her eyes glanced over the newsprint on the table. “I’m excited to go to Fhirdiad! Aren’t you?”

Ashe nodded with a soft smile. “It’ll be nice to see Sylvain and Felix again. And I can take you to that bakery I told you about!”

“And you’ll get to see Prince Dimitri again.”

Ashe was taken aback. “W-well, you’ll get to see him too. At his coronation.”

“Yeah! But that’s not what I meant.”

Before he could ask what she could have possibly meant instead, Evelyn tapped on the newspaper, a picture of Dimitri in one of the palace gardens, sitting opposite another man the journalist identified as Claude von Reigan. They were smiling and laughing at something the other had said.

Ashe couldn’t help but think that they looked so… happy together. 

“You know, you still haven’t told me about him. The Prince I mean.” she said, batting her eyelashes dramatically.

Ashe couldn’t help but laugh. “What do you want to know?”

Evelyn hummed, tapping her index finger to her chin, her face contorted in overexaggerated contemplation. “What’s he like?”

“Well,” Ashe began, his chest tightening as he thought of how to describe Dimitri. “He’s very regal and… poised, I guess.”

“All princes are regal and poised, Ashe,” she rolled her eyes. “It’s part of the job description. What else? Is he stuffy like Lord Haliwell?”

“You know that’s not a nice thing to say about Lord Haliwell,” he reprimanded gently. “But no, he isn’t. Dimitri is very kind, and a just leader. He’s fair, and loyal to his friends--”

“Dimitri?”

“What?”

Evelyn sat up straight. “Dimitri. You just said Dimitri.”

Ashe stared at her, not seeing why she was stuck on the Prince’s name. “Uhm… yes? Prince Dimitri.”

“Nononono-- You just said Dimitri! Not Prince Dimitri. Dimitri. Ashe, are you on a first name basis with the Prince? And you didn’t tell me?!” she jumped off the chair excitedly. “Oh my gosh! That’s so cool!”

“N-no, Evelyn, I misspoke! I don’t know the Prince like that. Honest!”

“Then why are you using your lying voice?” she accused. Did he really have such a tell? “Come on~, Ashe! I won’t tell anyone, I promise!”

“It’s complicated.”

Ashe swore he saw his sister’s eyes grow three sizes. “Oh. My. Gosh.” She smiled, mischievously. “Do you _like_ him?!”

Ashe felt the color drain from his face and panic rise in his voice. “What?! No, I don’t like him! I mean, I do. No! I like him as our ruler, as a friend, a--no, I mean--”

Evelyn’s voice rose in volume until she was almost shouting. “Does he like you back?!”

“Evelyn, please,” Ashe begged. “You’re not understanding me. There’s no way for me to like Prince Dimitri. He’s our leader and has better things to do than fall in love with a commoner like me.”

“Lying voice!”

“Evelyn!”

His sister threw her arms up and turned in a frustrated circle. “But you do like him like that right? It’s kind of obvious, honestly, like how you were looking at his picture a bit ago! You should tell him! Maybe he likes you back! What’s so complicated about it?!” She gasped. “Maybe at the coronation! Like in a story! Underneath the light of the moon, alone together, you tell him ‘Prince Dimitri-’ no--just Dimitri-- ‘Dimitri, I really like you,’ and he’ll say, ‘I really like you too, Ashe,’ and then--”

“Enough, Evelyn!” Ashe slammed his hands on the table, shouting so loud and forceful that his sister recoiled. “This isn’t a fairytale story, this is real life! I think it’s time you learned the difference and that the stories aren’t _real_ , those things don’t just _happen_ to people! Commoners don’t get to love nobility, and they especially don’t get to love royalty!”

His voice bounced off the walls, the library suddenly unnaturally quiet. His anger calmed as fast as it had appeared. He’d never yelled like that before, and especially not at Evelyn.

Evelyn…

Looking at his sister, Ashe realized she had stepped far away from him, body turned toward the exit. Tears were streaking her face, falling to the floor with a _plop_.

“O-oh, Evie, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled like that.” He stood and stepped toward her, reaching out, but she jumped away.

Evelyn sniffled and wiped her nose on the back of her hand.

“You know what else only happens in stories?” she hiccupped. “Noble lords adopting street rat orphans! But it happened to us!” She turned away from Ashe and sprinted out of the library, her sobs echoing down the corridor.

Ashe could only watch her go, guilt settling in the pit of his stomach. He shouldn’t have yelled at her like that. It’s not her fault; Evelyn’s still young enough to believe in silly things like fairy tales and true love conquering all.

With a sigh, he resolved to apologize later. But for now, he needed to be alone.

Evelyn hadn’t spoken to Ashe since the incident in the library. He’d tried to apologize in a number of ways; asking to play her favorite game, sneaking her a treat from the kitchen, offering to take her into town for some shopping. No matter what he tried, Evelyn still didn’t want to be around him. Even on the plane ride to Fhirdiad the following week, Evelyn bouncing around the plane cabin excitedly, she avoided Ashe.

Christophe and Lonato noticed something was up between the two of them and tried to mediate the situation to no avail. Perhaps they just needed some time away from each other.

It just so happened that Ashe would be staying at the palace as an honored guest of Prince Dimitri. The arrangements had been made prior to the ball and to refuse or back out right before the coronation would have been a serious social misstep.

The coronation ceremony was indescribable. Guests and dignitaries from all over Fódlan were in attendance as well as the usual Faerghun nobility. The archbishop of the Church of Serios presided over the ceremony and laid the crown upon Prince, now King, Dimitri’s head. Afterward, there was a feast and social party in honor of the newly crowned King. Looking around the ballroom, Ashe found his eyes continually drawn to Dimitri.

“You’re staring. Again.” Felix remarked.

Ashe shook his head coming back to the conversation. “Sorry, I zoned out. Who’s staring?”

Felix scoffed. “You. At Dimitri. You’ve been looking at him all day like you have something urgent and important to tell him.”

“Well, I don’t.” Ashe said defensively. “He just happened to be in my line of sight.”

Before Felix could argue, Sylvain appeared handing them each a glass of fruity smelling wine. “In case you were wondering, the bartender is gorgeous!”

“I wasn’t.” Felix deadpanned.

“Don’t worry, Felix, you’re still the only one for me.” Sylvain winked and Felix excused himself for the restroom.

Ashe looked out over the ballroom again, taking in the other sights and people around. He saw Lonato and Christophe in conversation with a group of Lords, none of whom he recognized; Evelyn was playing in a far corner of the room with some of the other noble children; Ashe even recognized Claude von Reigan among the Almyran royalty. Again, his eyes eventually slipped back to King Dimitri.

“Did you and Dimitri have a fight?” Sylvain asked, following his gaze.

Ashe sipped his glass of wine, the alcohol warming his chest. “What makes you say that?”

Sylvain shrugged. “Just a hunch. He’s been… different, since you left.”

“Different?”

“Yeah. I asked him if he’d made any progress on the mystery man from the ball and he got quiet and sad like his dog had died or something.”

Ashe took another sip. “Maybe he’s just been nervous for today. Besides, he’s looked very happy in all the pictures I’ve seen. With… Claude.”

Sylvain side-eyed him. “Right… Maybe you should talk to him.”

“What? Why?”

“Like I said, he’s been different since you left, and he hasn’t been talking to me or Felix. Maybe a different friendly face might help him open up.”

The pair watched as Dimitri excused himself from his conversation, then stopped to whisper into Claude’s ear. Ashe inadvertently tightened his grip on his glass, and watched Dimitri glide through the throng of people toward a side door.

Dedue followed close behind, eyes constantly moving and alert. He turned in their direction and caught Ashe’s gaze.

Ashe startled at being caught staring, but Dedue only offered him a small smile and inclined his head in the direction Dimitri had gone, then followed his liege.

“Go.” Sylvain whispered.

Ashe nodded and downed the remainder of his wine in one go and passed the empty glass to a nearby waiter. He strode through the crowd, focused only on following Dimitri, therefore, he didn’t see the man heading toward the side bar. The men collided jarring Ashe back to the moment enough to look at the man and apologize.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, sir. I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

“That’s quite alright young man, no harm done.” The man responded kindly. “Do be more careful though.”

“Yes, of course. My apologies again.” Ashe bowed to the man hurriedly and continued toward his destination.

Out in the hallway, Ashe found Dedue standing guard outside of a sitting room, a few feet away from the ballroom. It was the same sitting room they had been in the night of the ball. As if sensing his presence, Dedue looked to him and nodded, then turned and walked down the corridor a bit leaving the door unguarded.

Moving quickly, Ashe walked into the sitting room closing the door softly behind him.

“Thank you Dedue, I’ll be only a moment more.” Dimitri stood at the far end of the sitting room, gazing out the window.

“I’m sorry to intrude, Your Majesty.”

Dimitri turned sharply. “Lord Ubert,” he acknowledged. “It’s good to see you. I’m sorry I have not completed my rounds in the ballroom and have yet to greet you and your family.”

Ashe shook his head, feeling awkward at the lack of familiarity in the King’s speech. “No apology necessary, Your Majesty. My family and I know you mean no offense.”

“You are ever gracious, Lord Ubert, thank you.” The King sounded exhausted. “If you please, I will be just a moment longer.”

“Are you, okay, Dimitri?” Ashe asked hurriedly ignoring the dismissal, his tongue loosened and emboldened from the wine. “Sylvain was concerned about you and I thought I’d ask. Dedue let me in to follow you.”

Dimitri sighed and his shoulders sagged, but not with the weight of the cape he wore. “How do I even begin to try to answer that?”

Ashe shifted his weight, trying to decide how to narrow down the possible cause of his friend’s hesitation. “The papers say you’re planning a grand proposal,” he said, hoping to convey a sense of happiness. “Congratulations.”

Dimitri scoffed. “The _tabloids_ only see what they want to see, and if it’s not there, they make it up. Claude is a wonderful person and he’ll make a fine partner for someone. But it won’t be me.”

Ashe looked up sharply. “But what about your reign? It’s conditional on you taking a partner.”

“That is an archaic law and one I _will_ see abolished!” Dimitri sighed again, calming the sudden storm of emotions that washed over him. “When my birth mother died, my father did not have to take another wife. He would have ruled alone and received little criticism for it. I never understood why marriage should be a prerequisite to rule.” He met Ashe’s eyes. “Even so, I wouldn’t feel right marrying for politics.” 

The King chuckled and nervously rubbed the back of his neck. “This may sound ridiculous, but… remember when we spoke about your hero stories?”

Did he remember? How could Ashe forget?

Suddenly unsure of his voice, Ashe could only nod.

“That’s what I want,” Dimitri continued. “A heroic love story. Dinners by candlelight, long looks just marveling at the person I am honored to call ‘Beloved’ in my life. Even the idea of my partner wearing a token of mine as I joust in a tournament, pledging to win for them, is terribly romantic.”

“It’s one of my favorite tropes.” Ashe said, voice barely a whisper.

Dimitri smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I know.”

Ashe recognized it then, that look in Dimitri’s eyes. Ashe imagined similar scenarios when he thought about the future and having a partner. Who doesn’t dream of holding hands while walking through the park or down a crowded city street? Moving around each other in the bathroom as you each prepare for your day, a well choreographed dance of toothbrushes, hair gel, and little kisses?

Ashe imagined all these things with Dimitri.

And Dimitri, it seemed, imagined all these things with Ashe.

Whether it was the wine loosening his reservations or the soft and vulnerable look Dimitri wore, Ashe didn’t know, but he suddenly felt compelled to tell Dimitri exactly how he felt.

He walked toward the Prince Royale, reaching out to join their hands. “Dimitri,” he slurred. “I have to tell you--”

Ashe was cut off by a commotion on the other side of the door. In moments, the Royal Guard burst into the sitting room shouting commands and separating the two men.

“You! Stand down!”

“Step back your Majesty!”

Suddenly, Ashe found himself restrained by two guards on the opposite wall away from Dimitri. They each held one of his arms and shoved his chest against the wall.

“Halt!” Dimitri exclaimed. “Unhand him at once and explain yourselves!”

“I’m afraid that’s impossible, your Majesty”

Ashe struggled against the hold on him, turning his head to the new voice, clear as day despite the chaos.

“Cornelia, what is the meaning of this?” Dimitri asked, veiled in anger.

“My sincerest apologies, your Majesty,” Cornelia replied with false concern. “We were recently informed of a robbery plot and possible assination. It was imperative we found you at once.”

Ashe froze. Robbery? Assination? Who would do such a thing?

“I see. But what does that have to do with Ash-- Lord Ubert? He has been the only one with me during my break from the celebration.”

“Unfortunately, that’s just it, your Majesty,” At some unspoken command, Ashe was turned around and brought to the center of the room, facing Dimitri, Cornelia, and the rest of the Royal Guard. “The anonymous tip led us to Lord Ubert’s room where we discovered thieves tools, detailed maps of the palace grounds, and vials of an unknown substance, possibly poison.”

Ashe paled and he lost all trace of the warm alcoholic buzz he had been previously filled with. This was Cornelia’s warning coming to life. She had set him up for treason.

Dimitri turned from his advisor. “Ashe…?”

Ashe shook his head vehemently. “N-no! Dimi-- Your Majesty, that’s not true! I would never!”

“Search him!” Cornelia demanded. “He’s been alone with the Prince Royale just waiting for an opportunity.”

A third guard advanced toward Ashe and began patting him down and turning out his pockets.

“There’s nothing! I swear, I don’t have--” the rest of his sentence died in his throat as the guard patted the inside pocket of his jacket against his side. There was something there, something Ashe didn’t have earlier. Feeling the unknown item, the guard reached into the pocket and removed a small vial of purple liquid.

“Ah-ha!” the Royal Advisor shrieked triumphantly. “Just like the ones in his room!”

“That’s not mine! I’ve never seen it before in my life!” Ashe struggled to pull away from the guards that held him, pleading to his friend. “Please, Dimitri, I swear, I wouldn’t do anything to harm you. Please!”

Dimitri’s eyes glazed, sadness and betrayal shining in the bright blue. He didn’t believe him. Dimitri believed Cornelia, believed that Ashe had been using him, getting close to him in order to do him harm. Just like she had said before.

Ashe had to get out of there.

He elbowed one of his captors in the stomach, breaking free of their hold. In the surprise and confusion, he wrenched his arm free from the other and hustled toward the door. Before he reached the corridor, another guard tackled him from behind, the fall knocking the wind out of his lungs. Ashe twisted and flailed trying in vain to gain the upper hand. His arms were pinned behind his back and bound.

“Stop struggling.” the guard whispered. “It’s over.”

Resigned to his fate, Ashe went limp and was lifted to his feet once again. He looked to Dimitri, silent, eyes still pleading for him to understand. To know deep down that this was a mistake, some kind of misunderstanding, that Ashe was being framed!

“Dimitri…” he whispered, a final appeal, eyes beginning to sting and water.

Dimitri looked to him, face twisted into an angry scowl, no trace of the vulnerable romantic that had been there moments ago.

“Get him out of my sight.” he growled.

Ashe felt a tear run down his cheeks as the guards marched him out of the sitting room and down to a holding cell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've only had Evelyn Ubert as an OC for a few months, but I heckin love her! (I hope you all do too!)
> 
> It's not obvious in my writing, but the guard that grabs Ashe at the end is Ingrid. I couldn't figure out a way to properly introduce her and therefore name her in this scene, but please imagine it's her. (I'm sorry Ingrid! T-T) [In fact, it's more obvious in Cobalt's art! Check it out!](https://twitter.com/cobaltcandi/status/1357757371561373696?s=20)
> 
> Are y'all still with me?? Final resolutions coming up!


	9. Chapter 9

He knew this could happen.

Well, not this exactly, but this was what he’d been warned about.

_It would do you well to stay away from His Highness._

Ashe leaned his head back against the wall with a soft _thud_. Everything happened so fast and there were still so many unanswered questions. Who made the anonymous tip? Who planted those things in Ashe’s room? How did that vial get in his jacket?

The last one was simple enough. It had to have been that nobleman he’d accidentally collided with in the ballroom.

On his way to follow Dimitri.

_‘Goddess, I’m an idiot.’_ Ashe thought.

If only he hadn’t gone to the ball. If only he’d ignored Sylvain and stayed home. No, even before that. If he hadn’t come to the capital in the first place, if Christophe had come instead like usual. He never would have met Dimitri, become his friend, fallen in love--

No. This was not his fault.

He couldn’t change the past and he wouldn’t trade his time spent with Dimitri for anything in the world.

Ashe loved him.

And he needed to get out of this cell, find Dimitri, and tell him everything! His past, his feelings--

A loud _screech_ echoed down the corridor, followed by clicking heels on the stone floor. Ashe stood as the stranger approached and scowled as he realized who it was.

“What do you want?” he growled.

“Ooh, looks like the rat still has some fight in him after all.”

Cornelia.

“I tried to warn you, you know,” she mocked. “All you had to do was keep your distance from His Majesty. You brought this on yourself.”

“Why are you here?” Ashe demanded. “You got what you wanted.”

“Oh, no my dear. You see, I’ve only just begun.” She stepped toward the bars separating them. “You were just the jumpstart I needed. A thief among us, treason within the government. I couldn’t have planned it any better! The lords don’t trust themselves anymore, let alone each other. His Majesty is devastated, betrayed by someone he believed was his friend.”

Ashe could only stare as Cornelia tisked, smirk widening, his rage growing to a boiling point.

The advisor continued gloating. “And now, your poor father has to clean up the mess you made.”

Ashe clenched his fists. “Do what you want to me, but leave my family out of this!”

Cornelia laughed. “You should have thought about that before you defied me. All eyes are on Gaspard now. Who would have suspected that Lonato was planning to overthrow the royal family? And to use his adopted son to do it. Tragic.”

“No…”

“Yes! The council is calling an emergency session! It’s likely they’ll strip your father of his governance! You’ll be back on the street, living in the gutter like the urchin you are, and I, will be one step closer to the throne!”

Ashe lunged at her with a feral scream. He slammed his body into the bars, reaching through them and clawing at Cornelia to no avail. The advisor just laughed and exited the chamber, her heels clicking on the stone in her wake.

“Cornelia!” Ashe screamed after her, the door closing with a clap like thunder. “Cornelia! I--I…” The adrenaline faded just as quickly as it came. “I… P-please… Not…” Ashe crumpled to the concrete floor, boneless, broken, and tired.

_‘What have I done?’_

Ashe wept.

Rest did not come easily that night. Ashe tossed and turned on the cot in his cell, falling into periods of unconsciousness rather than sleep. Morning eventually arrived along with a bland breakfast he barely touched, stomach flipping thanks to his nerves. He would pace the cell, lie down and stare at the ceiling, then pace again in a cruel and unending cycle.

He received no other visitors which was both a blessing and a curse.

Time passed at a snail’s pace. Lunch was left for him and he paid it no mind. How could he eat not knowing what his family was going through? Ashe drove himself crazy as he imagined what was happening in the council chamber.

Did the lords really believe Lonato was out to overthrow the Royal Family? And that he used Ashe to do it? Would they vote to strip Lonato of his power? And if they did, what happened next? Would Cornelia eventually succeed and Dimitri be removed from the throne?

A commotion at the entrance of the chamber slowly drew Ashe out of his thought spiral. There were muffled voices gaining volume, and the door opened with an echoing _screech_.

“Sir, I must protest! Under orders from Lady Cornelia--”

“Your loyalties are to King Dimitri, not the Royal Advisor, or have you forgotten?” Was that Dedue?

“No, sir! But the advisor--”

“Therefore, by order of His Majesty, stand aside or I shall have you arrested for treason as well!”

Silence. Ashe assumed the guard was weighing his options. The guard finally conceded with a resigned “As you wish, my lord,” and heavy footsteps reverberated down the corridor and stopped at Ashe’s cell.

“Hello, Ashe.”

Ashe sat up slowly. “Dedue? What are you doing here?”

Dedue smiled, reached into his pocket and produced a set of keys. “Getting you out of here.” He put the correct key into the lock and the door swung wide.

Ashe tried to process this turn of events. “I don’t understand. You’re letting me go? Just like that?”

The King’s vassal nodded. “Some new information has come to light proclaiming your innocence. You have the sincerest apologies of the Royal Family.”

“Dimitri sent you?” Ashe couldn’t help the hope and relief that flooded his voice.

Dedue frowned. “Unfortunately, no.” Ashe’s heart sank. “I made the… let’s call it an executive decision, to retrieve you before telling His Majesty. Come. The council is meeting right now. We don’t have much time.”

Ashe stood and followed Dedue out of the chamber, past the guard who looked like he’d eaten something incredibly sour.

“I… I still don’t understand, Dedue.” Ashe said softly.

“Don’t worry. I’ll tell you as we go.”

On the way to the council chamber, Dedue weaved a tale that, if Ashe hadn’t been experiencing it first hand, sounded like the penultimate chapters of a heist novel.

“After they took you away last night, I went to see our head of security.” Dedue explained. “No one knows the palace in the way that they do.

“We have you on video leaving your room before the coronation ceremony and reception, and not returning. However, a house servant did approach and enter your room. We don’t know what he did inside, but Byleth believes he planted the thieves kit and poison vials. The first anonymous tip came in shortly after he left.”

“One of the palace’s staff?” Ashe asked, wondering why someone would go through so much trouble to frame him for treason.

Dedue shook his head as they turned a corner. “No. He was someone in service to another Kingdom lord. But there’s more. Do you remember anything about the man who bumped into you in the ballroom during the reception?”

“No, I didn’t think much of it. But, looking back, I bet it’s safe to assume he’s the one who planted the vial in my jacket.”

“That’s what we think as well,” Dedue confirmed solemnly. “That man was Lord Harold Kliemann, Lord Maxwell’s younger brother, second in line for their governance.”

“Lord Kliemann?” Ashe questioned. “I know of them. Lonato’s had land disputes with him before.”

Dedue nodded. “Speaking with the house servant proved most valuable. It seems their house harbors great ill will toward Gaspard, though why the bad blood, he could not say. His lord, the younger Kliemann, told him he would be assisting the Royal Advisor this week. He acted on her orders.”

Ashe froze. “Cornelia. I knew it!”

“Did you know something about this?”

“Sort of, I guess. Cornelia… she threatened me after the ball last month. She warned me to stay away from Dimitri. Then she came to see me yesterday, said I helped her get closer to the throne.” Ashe looked up at Dedue. “She wants to remove Dimitri from power and rule herself.”

Dedue placed a comforting hand on Ashe’s shoulder. “Ashe, listen to me. This is not your fault. We’re going to fix this.”

Ashe wiped at his eyes, unaware that he had started crying. “I know, I know. I didn’t think it would ever end up like this.”

Dedue gave him a reassuring smile. “Come. We’re almost there.”

Ashe and Dedue crept into the council chamber though their silence was unnecessary. The chamber echoed with the shouts of the nobility, heatedly arguing over something the men couldn’t make out right away.

“Stay behind me,” Dedue cautioned, hoping to keep Ashe hidden for now. No one had noticed their arrival.

Ashe looked around the chamber. Lonato stood alone in front of the dais. His father was calm and silent as a stone while a storm raged on behind him. He saw Christophe sitting at their assigned desk, holding Evelyn as she sobbed quietly, anger rising behind his brother’s eyes.

“Gaspard has been harboring criminals to overthrow the Royal Family!” someone exclaimed.

“They should be stripped of their governance!” shouted another.

On the dais, Duke Fraldarius called for order with the rapping of his gavel, and the last of the arguments faded into silence at last.

It was then that Ashe looked at King Dimitri. He looked tired, like he hadn’t slept in weeks, eyes dark and empty. With order finally restored in the chamber, the King spoke, his voice void of the cadence and melody Ashe had grown to love.

“Lord Gaspard,” he began. “You stand before this council and your liege accused of treason and high crimes against the Crown. Crimes of such a nature are intolerable and punishable up to and including exile. What say you?”

Lonato stood straighter matching the poise of his king. “Your Majesty, I stand before this council and my liege, proclaiming my innocence. The virtue of Gaspard remains loyal to the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus and its ruler.”

Dimitri nodded as the murmurs of the lords grew again.

“Traitors!”

“Exile!”

With another _bang_ of the gavel, Duke Fraldarius called for order once more, and silence returned to the chamber.

“This is a dark day for Faerghus.” Dimitri said gravely. “To see one of our own accused of such terrible and unforgivable, truly heinous acts…” He sighed, as though he was trying to find a way out of this situation. “I am unfortunately left with no choice. On my authority, I am suspending the governance of Gaspard pending--”

“No!” Ashe exclaimed, running toward the dais. Dedue called to him, but Ashe didn’t stop, and the room exploded into chaos.

“Seize him!”

“Treason!”

A guard tackled Ashe to the floor, arms wrenched behind his back. He heard Evelyn cry out as he struggled against the weight at his back. The sound of the gavel echoed through the room again and an uneasy hush fell over the crowd.

“What is the meaning of this?” Dimitri demanded.

“He escaped, your Majesty!” Cornelia’s frazzled voice rang out from the dais. Ashe struggled harder. “This proves just how dangerous he really is! Clearly he’s come--”

“Your Majesty, if I may.” Dedue’s usually quiet voice thundered over the Royal Advisor’s, silencing her.

Dimitri looked at his vassal, puzzled. “Dedue?”

“Your Majesty, we have evidence supporting Lord Gaspard’s innocence. Lord Ubert was framed for treason and we have reason to believe the mastermind behind the events of yesterday may in fact be the Royal Advisor.”

The chamber filled with gasps and murmurs.

“That’s preposterous!” Cornelia shouted. “You have let the rat influence your decisions and judgement!”

“I have not.” Dedue challenged. “We have video evidence of the nefarious items being planted in Lord Ubert’s room. A house servant, originally in service to Lord Harold Kliemann and his family, but hired out to Lady Arnim.”

There was more murmuring increasing in volume as everyone’s attention was drawn to Lord Maxwell Kliemann, the older brother and current leader of their territory.

“The accomplice is in Royal custody and is preparing a statement against Lady Arnim as we speak.”

“These are serious accusations against your brother, Lord Kleimann.” Dimitri said, turning to the lord. “What say you?”

Lord Kliemann, an older gentleman around Lonato’s age stood to address his liege. “Your Majesty, I have no knowledge of the dealings Lady Arnim may have had with my family or their staff.”

“You lie!” Cornelia shouted, face red with rage. “This was your idea just as much! You wished to see Gaspard fall!”

“The Lady approached my brother and I asking to hire one of our staff for our time here. My brother agreed though I do not know the terms of their agreement.”

“Liar! You fools approached me! Your Majesty, please--”

“Enough!” Dimitri shouted, bringing the chamber to a halt. “Arrest them--all of them--until we can complete a thorough investigation.”

Guards apprehended Cornelia and Lord Kliemann, both still slinging insults at the other as they were removed from the council chamber.

“In light of these new declarations, it is on my authority that the charges against Lord Gaspard and Lord Ubert are hereby dismissed without prejudice. Lord Gaspard shall retain his governance. This session is adjourned.”

Relief flooded through Ashe’s body. The guard released him and he ran to meet his family.

“Ashe!” Evelyn called as she jumped into his arms and hugged him tight, tears dampening his jacket.

“Hey Evie, it’s okay,” he soothed, hugging her just as tight. “I’ve got you.”

“I thought I’d never see you again,” she wailed. “I’m sorry for fighting with you, for-for joking about the Prince, an-and--” her words faded as she buried her face in his shoulder, sobbing.

Christophe reached for their sister prying her off Ashe. Catching his brother’s eye, he inclined his head to something behind them.

Turning around, Ashe met the eyes of King Dimitri. He smiled softly, shoulders sagging in relief as he stepped toward his liege.

“Lord Ubert,” Dimitri began. “I… I am sincerely sorry for the distress that has been placed on you and your family. I assure you that I will not waste a moment to bring justice to those responsible.”

Ashe bowed. “Thank you, Your Majesty. I know without a doubt that you will do right by us.” 

An awkward silence stretched between them. Ashe wanted to tell Dimitri his feelings, but the formalities left him second guessing his confession. When it became clear neither man was ready to speak, Ashe turned to excuse himself.

“My apologies, your Majesty, but I should return to my family.”

“Ashe, wait!”

Ashe’s heart skipped a beat at the casual use of his name rather than title, and the pressure of Dimitri’s hand on his. Dimitri fell into a deep bow.

“Please…” he whispered, barely audible. “I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me.”

Ashe allowed himself another soft smile, even though Dimitri couldn’t see it. He stepped toward the King and gently caressed the side of his face. Slipping his hand under Dimitri’s chin, Ashe gave a gentle lift, encouraging the King to stand. Before he could stand to his full height, Ashe stepped in close and kissed him, the world around them fading into nothing.


	10. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a short one, wrapping up the little bits. Thank you for reading this story!

With Ashe’s innocence proven and Cornelia imprisoned for conspiracy to commit treason against the crown, normalcy slowly began returning to the capital and to the governing lords. Accusations against Lonato and Gaspard territory were dropped, and an investigation into others who may have conspired with the royal advisor was on-going. Hopefully in time, this mark on the government would pass.

After the events of coronation day, Ashe left his palace suite and returned to his family’s home to rest and refresh away from the ordeal in the palace. He took comfort in his family’s welcome, Lonato’s laugh, Christophe’s embrace, and Evelyn’s playfulness. Above all, he was glad they were safe and that they could also work toward bettering tomorrow.

Their time in the capital was once again coming to an end. Ashe paced his room, suitcase laid open on the bed, clothing and trinkets spilling out over the edges and on to the bedspread. It would be some time before he would return, so he wanted to be sure he wasn’t leaving anything important behind.

As he packed, there was a knock on his door.

“Come in!” he shouted to his visitor as he focused on trying to fold one of his sweaters.

His door swung open silently and his visitor entered, taking the sweater from his hands.

“Let me help you with that, dear,” Celia said. “And… with the rest of this. You have a visitor downstairs.” She smiled at him with the look that Ashe had come to recognize as her _‘Dimitri is here to see you’_ look.

“O-oh. Thanks Celia. You don’t have to help though. I’ll finish when I get back.

The housemaid ignored him, humming a song and waving her hands, shooing him out of the room. Ashe sighed and shook his head with a smile and headed down to the sitting room.

“I’m having the strangest feeling of déjà vu.” Ashe joked, closing the door behind him.

Dimitri turned, smiling softly. “I agree. Though, hopefully, this meeting ends much differently.”

Ashe nodded. “I’m confident it will.” He gestured to the coffee table and chairs. “Care to take a seat, Your Majesty?”

Dimitri shook his head. “Unfortunately, my visit must be quick. I am needed back at the palace soon to sign the marriage law. I’m sure Lord Lonato told you, but the council voted to abolish it. I and my future heirs will not need to be married in order to fully assume the throne.”

“That’s wonderful, Dimitri! Congratulations!”

The King nodded. “I’ll also be signing the new tax plan, the one you worked so hard on earlier in the session.” He paused. “I wish you could be there to see it.”

Ashe’s face fell. “I’m sorry--”

“Do not apologize.” Dimitri interrupted, raising a gloved hand. “I do not mean to make you feel guilty. Just know that I am grateful for your hard work and that there is always a place for you in my court.”

Ashe bowed. “You are most gracious, Your Majesty.”

“Ashe, please. You needn’t be so formal.”

“S-sorry. It seemed like a formal conversation.”

Dimitri laughed and stepped toward Ashe, reaching into the breast pocket of his jacket. “I also have something for you.” The King held out a small item wrapped in a delicate handkerchief.

Ashe unfolded the cloth revealing a silver band.

“My ring!” he exclaimed. “I thought I lost it for good! Where did you find it?”

Dimitri smiled mischievously. “You left it with me.” He chuckled at the confusion on Ashe’s face and reached out to tuck his silver hair behind his ear. “The night of the ball. After our dance.”

Ashe’s eyes went wide. The ball! Dimitri’s birthday! He’d completely forgotten! That meant… Dimitri had known! All this time!

“O-oh. Um… I-I can explain--” But before he could, Dimitri’s lips met his and they came together in a soft embrace.

“Can I convince you to stay?” Dimitri asked when they parted, foreheads touching. “Not for long, and not if you don’t want to of course, but… I would still very much like to get to know you better.”

“Your Majesty,” Ashe gasped playfully. “Are you suggesting a courtship?”

Dimitri laughed. “I am. If you are amenable to such a thing.”

“I am.”

“As am I.” The King tilted his head to capture Ashe’s lips once again.

Somewhere in the house, a clock struck the top of the hour, but neither man paid it any mind.

Their story was only just beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I get a little sappy in these end notes, so the TL;DR is thank you, thank you, thank you to everyone who gave me words of encouragement, listened to me commiserate, anything during the writing of this fic! And of course, thank you dear reader, for clicking this story and reading along. Your support means the world! 💜💙
> 
> Now on to the sappy. xD
> 
> First and foremost, this story was almost not a thing. When sign-ups for the Ashe Big Bang graced my timeline, I wasn't gonna do it. I'm still relatively new to fic writing and didn't think I could write a decent 10k story. But with some encouragement (and gentle bullying) from friends, I set my fears aside and thought, 'what the hell?' And I'm so glad I did! I had a lot of fun crafting this story and I learned a lot about me as a writer, what I can improve on, and why I like writing (and reading!) fanfic so much. Thank you for watching my journey!
> 
> Thank you to [Cobalt,](https://twitter.com/cobaltcandi) my wonderful artist partner! I wasn't the most talkative partner, but your art is adorable and emotional and absolutely perfect! Thank you for wanting to work on my story!
> 
> To the Daiya Writing server where I spent most of my time writing/sprinting (and making the Tatsu bot roll dice to help my indecisions), I appreciate you all so, so, so much! Special thanks to [Ray](https://twitter.com/rayray_swimusic) for her humor (you know why! LOL), and to [Pags](https://twitter.com/pagsywagsy) and [Makeshift](https://twitter.com/Makeshiftplans) who read this thing over me to make sure it didn't suck. (I hope it doesn't suck. xD)
> 
> Thank you to [Ivory](https://twitter.com/birdsandivory) who is a huge inspiration to me in general and also one of my biggest cheerleaders! Thank you for letting me pop into your DMs with random questions and random tweets that make me think of you. Your support has been unwavering and I'm so grateful! (Ivory has a fic for this bang too! -wink wink-)
> 
> To the [Ashe Big Bang](https://twitter.com/AsheBigBang) mods! It's because of you all that this event even exists! Thank you for taking on the task of running this event! I've said it a million times by now, but this was my first bang and y'all made it so easy and fun! I had a great time!
> 
> Last and certainly not least, thank YOU, reader who has even made it through this babble. xD Thank you for clicking on my story and reading and commenting along the way! I truly hope that even though it's not perfect, you enjoyed the time you spent with it. 💜💙
> 
> I'm on Twitter, @amirah_leigh, babbling some more about FE3H and many other fandoms if you're interested! Thank you all again for support! 💜💙


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